Who the Fck's Madara Uchiha ?
by QueenPotatos
Summary: "We all need someone to shout for. Yeah, everybody wants somebody to adore; but your heroes aren't what they seem when you've been where we've been." Angst Hashi/Mada, From their childhood to their future meeting as Edo's. Spoils from Hashirama's Flashback.
1. Heroes

_A/N :__ Hello everybody ! Since Hashirama started his "founders arc Flashbacks" I have so many Hashi/Mada feels…Reading (wonderful) fanfictions was not enough thought and I kind of make the leap and started a story on my own ^.^_

_It was supposed to be a one-shot story lining up with a song I love, but after 3500 words I realize I had only done one single verse and said : Queenie, stop. You're not gonna post a 20,000 words one shot in English again without any beta. So here is the first chapter…I hope you're gonna like it ^.^_

_**WARNING :**__ (Sorry but no lemon here!) I had to be honest with you : I'm not a native English speaker and although I read a lot of fanfictions in English, I haven't been in English class for at least 7 years…so there might be some funny mistakes (you know, 'where' instead of' were', really bad sequence of tenses…), so I hope I didn't skipped too much mistakes and that it's readable_

_**EDIT :**__ Beta by Vesta J.C, Thank you so much !_

Madara and Hashirama are not my babies…they're Kishimoto's…(snif…)

* * *

**Chapter one : Heroes**

**.**

o0o0o

.

Madara was standing alone in the principal alley of their newborn village, facing his rival's giant face carved in the rock. His features were bathed in the moonlight as Madara stared for what seemed like an eternity at Hashirama's sculpture.

Madara smirked. He'd just realized that the 'face-looking-at-the-village' thing was _so _like Hashirama.

_"Let's carve your face on the hill, so it's like you're watching over all the kids in our village!"_ the Senju had said.

_"Let's make our village where we used to play when we were kids, Madara!_"

_"We should stop fighting, Madara. I've sent you a truce, so why don't you reach for the hand I'm offering you?_" He had really shouted that time. Madara remembered it easily, as it had not been too long ago. It was just after...

Madara shook his head as bad memories started filling his thoughts, and so he instinctively looked up to Hashirama's figure for comfort. He cursed underneath his breath, again...damn that stupid habit. What was it about that _Senju_ that made his pain go away?

How his gentle gaze and warm arms, the sweet words he spoke with his deep voice, full of concern, and the softness of his lips...always ends up reaching him. It's something that will always be. And, as he thought about it on his way back home, it has always been.

.

o0o0o

.

"I'm so glad I've met you," said a little Hashirama after a quick sparring with his new spiky-haired friend. Both of them were only panting lightly, for their match wasn't really as intense as a regular fight; they didn't want their clans to get suspicious about their activities outside the compound.

Madara wiped the sweat from his forehead and grinned. "Yeah, you know, we all need someone to shout for. I guess you've just found your hero," he joked, pointing to his torso with his thumb. The young Uchiha bent down and picked the flask that was lying at his bare feet in his hand, and drank almost all of it in a single gulp. He paused for a second when he saw the light blush on Hashirama's face. Was the boy so angry 'cause he drank too much? Damn, that Hashirama boy must be from a very thirsty suiton users' clan.

"Hey, don't get mad at me!" shouted the Uchiha, as Hashirama curled up, feeling depressed again. Little did Madara know that his tantrum was going to be Hashirama's favorite play of words in the future…

"I'm not mad at you…" the Senju pouted." You can have it all, I'm not that thirsty."

"Drop the tough guy act already. You're gonna cramp up if you don't get enough water. What would your father say if his dear little sweet and innocent Hashirama came back from 'fishing' with a cramp?" Madara said, emphasizing the word fishing as if the hint wasn't big enough. Because, yeah, they were currently 'fishing' together every week now – and sometimes they did really catch some fish to fool their families and hide their secret meetings.

Hashirama eventually stopped pouting and grabbed the bottle Madara was holding. He drank, not once taking his glare off the little Uchiha. And, eventually, he choked.

Madara couldn't stop laughing as his bowl cut friend was nearly dying next to him. Nearly.

"The great shinobi Hashirama, killed in the prime of his life, by a mouthful of fresh water," announced Madara in a very solemn tone, barely hiding his grin as he tried to sound deadly serious. He didn't have time to turn around when Hashirama rushed toward him with the now-empty flask still in his hand, threatening to hit his head every time Hashirama got close enough to strike him. They ran like that for a couple of minutes before Madara clumsily tripped on a vulgar root and fell on the ground, and was quickly followed by the other young boy who didn't have time to adjust his course and ended up on top of him. They were both panting heavily now.

"You jerk!" barked Madara. "You did that on purpose to land on my god-like features!"

Hashirama, who had stopped coughing, stared at the young Uchiha before bursting out laughing, at which seemed to be nothing for the aforesaid Uchiha. As Hashirama got up from his lap, Madara leaned a hand on the ground and sat up, rubbing his back in pain, clearly annoyed by Hashirama's loud laughter.

"What is it again? I didn't say anything funny!"

"Gahahaha, you're mad!"

"Of course I am! You've just ruined my brand new kimono! Mum's gonna be furious!"

"No, I mean, you're 'Mad'…"

Madara took some time to get the pun. Hashirama's mischievous glare did not really help him, as instead, he found himself staring at him and thinking of how cute he looked when he was trying to annoy him.

"Maddy's mad!" he shouted again, starting to run in the opposite direction where they were previously.

"'Mad' is mad…I get it…" whispered Madara. He smirked as he finally got up to catch Hashirama. This time, he decided, he won't be the one to fall first.

They finally stopped chasing each other when the sun was going down. Hashirama was lying next to Madara with his head on the Uchiha's shoulder, quite impressed when he didn't mind to stay in this kind of intimate position. They both relaxed, listening to the river swashing and their own breathings.

"You know, at first, I thought that it would be fun- for you turning mad, I mean," started Hashirama. "But I realize, if you do get mad someday, I mean, really mad...then we won't be able to spend time together like we used to."

"You're still on that silly joke? Damn Hashirama, not only are your hair and clothes lame, but your sense of humor is, too."

"At least I have one."

Hashirama quickly turned on 'puppy-eyes' mode before he had to suffer from Madara's wrath. Then, the boys smiled again. Hashirama sighed before breaking the comfortable silence. "I wish we could stay like this forever."

Yeah, everybody wants somebody to adore.

"Me too," Madara answered thoughtfully.

.

o0o0o

.

Soon the two friends were proven wrong when their respective clans found out about their friendship. Butsuma Senju and Tajima Uchiha were both lethal enemies and were well aware of the fact that both clans were responsible for their childrens' deaths.

Reality struck them. Hashirama and Madara broke apart with the simple mention of their full names. He was Hashirama Senju. And he was Madara Uchiha.

Later that night, at the Uchiha compound, Madara caught a conversation between his father and his beloved little brother, Izuna. The little one was so fond of his older brother. On their way back home he couldn't stop asking how someone can be stronger than him, not believing that such an aberration could exist. Eventually the discussion between Madara's two relatives ended up by talking about the sharingan he had just awakened.

"You know, Izuna, one day you'll be able to obtain the same power, just as your brother did, today. You just have to find something that you adore and wait 'til it's being torn away from you."

"But I don't want brother and I to be separated!"

Madara could clearly hear Izuna was kind of upset with the news, which wasn't really surprising actually. Madara couldn't help but smile thinking about how much he meant to his little brother.

At last, he could still matter and be a hero figure for someone.

For someone who's not a Senju.

.

o0o0o

.

And then, the hero died when his only supporter died. With nothing left but his rage and Izuna's hatred, Madara desperately threw himself on the battlefield, knowing that even if he was powerful and could handle most of the Senju's clan alone, _He_ would be here. Like always.

And Madara wasn't proved wrong when what seemed to be a very sad Hashirama Senju stood before him. There you go, he was again going to talk about peace and happiness and children and their dreams and bla bla bla bullshit.

"We should stop fighting, Madara. I've sent you a truce, so why don't you reach for the hand I'm offering you?"

Just as expected- Hashirama's bullshit. Why couldn't he understand? There was no way that Uchihas and Senjus could get along. Not with all the hatred and grudges and blood they had on their hands. Maybe Hashirama had enough ingenuousness to forget about the little lovely dead ones, but Madara simply could not. And, as he suspected, most of their clansmen wouldn't either; they were so blurred by Hashirama's charisma and the promise of the end of conflicts that they chose being fooled over being honest.

Hashirama knew all too well that Madara was the most honest person he had ever met.

That's why they fought one-on-one in battle until Madara was lying down to the ground, for the first time.

Hashirama had known- for both of them were top-class shinobi now- how Madara had been feeling during their fight. That's why he wasn't really surprised when his friend spoke those words, just before Tobirama and the other Senjus who had attended the fight came around and broke their small, fragile cocoon.

"You should finish me off."

Hashirama smiled sadly, not really knowing how to handle such a demand from such a close friend. For the Senju, he was and would always be the guiding light, appearing only his front of those who believe in this divine fortune, leading him to his dream – no_, their_ dream. Hashirama had never denied his adoration for Madara, finding in the boy the strength he needed to confront his father and his archaic mentality. Now that he was the head, that people started believe in his – no,_their_ – dream, how could he killed the one from which everything started?

"What kind of man would I be if I kill a hero?" he asked the lying Uchiha. He smirked.

"There's no hero but you Hashirama. I let my brother died before my very eyes, eyes that I don't have anymore. Your childish prediction was right; the moment I took his light, I went mad."

His body was so sore from their intense sparing that Madara only realized now that Hashirama was stroking his right cheek with his thumb, his other hand gently pressed on his opposite shoulder. Was he trying to comfort him?

"For me, you'll always be a hero. Always." Yep, he was trying, and trying hard.

"Drop the good guy act already. You have to kill me. I have willingly followed my path, and failed. There is no future for me, or for my clan, but at least I won't be fooled any longer."

"You're wrong. You can still do something good around you. Everything I have accomplished so far was only because you were the other idealistic idiot on the other side of the river...who cared enough about the future to dare swimming against the tide in order to reach me. You still can do it." Why did his voice sound so soft his Madara's ears? Death was assuredly already messing with his senses. His body was relaxing slightly and he found out, rather amusedly, that even his mind was starting to feel at peace again, exactly like that day, when they were both lying near the river with Hashirama's head on his lap. A little piece of heaven before he would most certainly be crumbling in hell.

Madara looked up at his old friend when he felt the hand leave his cheek and trace his jawline before it landed at the base of his neck. He really looked awful, Madara thought, for the first time in his life- miserable, desperate, at the hedge of tears, and so many things that were _so not_ like Hashirama.

"So, basically," Madara started, "You're asking me to keep on living and accept that stupid truce so that you can make your dream come true and end up being a hero?" Who was the one trying to comfort the other now?

"Our dream," corrected Hashirama. "And we'll both be heroes." It seemed Madara had quite a surprising hidden talent, for Hashirama's features started loosening up a bit and trails of hope shyly shone in his eyes, among other things that the Uchiha couldn't really define.

"I don't want to be a hero anymore. What's the point of being looked up to if I always end up disappointing everyone?"

"Well, do it for me then." Hashirama was much more close now, with his hand brushing Madara's thick black locks out of his gorgeous face. "I promise I won't disappoint you."

"Bullshit. How can I even trust you, Senju?" Madara closed in eyes and tried to get rid of Hashirama's hand running down his hair. He chose to sting Hashirama on purpose to make him go away, but in the end, he knew he would have wanting nothing more than to give in to his friend till the end of his miserable life.

It seemed Hashirama had understood his unsaid request and answered him with a pair of soft lips, kissing Madara's own. Madara's eyes snapped wide open at the unexpected gesture, and felt Hashirama's warm body pressing against his stunned one. Hashirama quickly broke the kiss to look up to Madara's bemused expression before assaulting his mouth again, but this time with more passion, as the Senju's hands wandered from his hair down to his side. Madara would have been really offended usually, but, hell, he was going to die anyway; he could at least answer his friend request before leaving this earth. It wasn't because he desperately wanting to give in- no, really- but he answered the kiss by biting softly on Hashirama's bottom lip. The Senju moaned lightly before licking Madara's lips with his tongue, asking for entrance. He parted his already swollen lips to give him access and soon both of them were lost in their kisses, fighting for dominance. Hashirama first broke the kiss, as both of them needing to catch some air, and placed his mouth at Madara's neck but the shorter man stopped him in the process.

The look Hashirama gave him at that moment turned Madara inside out like nothing before.

"People are coming," the Uchiha said, amazingly calm after they had just so intensely made out. Hashirama seemed to understand slowly, still blurred in his bliss, as he finally but not willingly got off Madara and knelt at his side, away from him. And they waited for more and more of the Senju to arrive, watching them eventually circle around them, until finally Tobirama landed next to his older brother. They waited, with their eyes locked on each other, unflagging.

Madara wondered what it was in Hashirama's glare that warmed his heart so much. He eventually realized just in time, stopping the kunai that was threateningly close to his friend's guts.

It was love.

.

o0o0o

.

The peace treaty was quickly made, just like the village, thanks to Hashirama's Mokuton. So deadly in battle but so useful during a time at peace. They hadn't talked about what had happened that day yet. First, they were rarely alone- there was always a Senju or an Uchiha or another clan's head who wanted to join the village. The Sarutobi's clan head was pretty annoying in Madara's opinion, constantly being around with them. Second, as much as Hashirama wanted to talk about it, Madara did not. Now that he wasn't about to die, it seemed to him that this sort of decision needed some time to be properly thought-out. But he wasn't blind; he had seen a number of Hashirama's glances that often spoke volumes, better than any love-letter he could have read.

One sunny day, just after lunch, both of them were quietly visiting new buildings when Hashirama, suddenly realizing they were finally alone, took Madara's wrist and dragged him in the corner of an empty back alley, and pressed his back on the new building's wall.

"Madara…" The Senju lovingly whispered in his hears, as if he hadn't seen him for what seemed to be an eternity. The hot breath on Madara's neck made him shiver; he couldn't figure out whether it was from anticipation or from excitation.

He stiffened when he felt Hashirama's wet lips running from the crook of his neck to his ear lobe, taking it in his mouth and sucking it, making the Uchiha moan unintentionally. When Madara saw Hashirama's mouth leaving his ear to take his lips, he stopped him, and pushed him hard on the small wood wall behind him, frowning angrily.

"What do you think you're doing, Senju?" he said with a tone Hashirama thought a bit too threatening.

"Well, I just thought-"

"Then you thought wrong!" Madara barked, not letting the Senju finish his sentence. He knew him by heart. He was just too naïve. Did he really think it would be that…easy? That he could press him against the wall and kiss him hungrily without asking him anything? Madara was not a whore, certainly not a Senju's whore, and definitely not Hashirama's whore.

"But that time, Madara, you were…responding!"

"And I thought I would be dead by now so that I wouldn't have to go through that annoying conversation with you!" He really didn't want to sound that pissed, but, Madara was Madara, and at the moment he couldn't find anything that didn't piss him off.

"Listen, I know you might think it's wrong but-"

"It has nothing to do with that. It's not wrong to me, but I need some…time to really think about it." Hashirama, who was kind of tense – if not extremely tense – started to loosen up a bit when he understood that Madara, eventually, maybe, possibly, was considering their…relationship as something more than just friendship. Because that was the real deal: to put the right word on their status.

To Madara, Hashirama had moved from being a stranger with a weird haircut to a friend, then to a weekly training partner, to best friend, to mortal enemy, to first kisser – which was a very abrupt change for Madara, indeed – and finally, to the co-founders of their village. But to Hashirama, Madara had moved from being a stranger with a rather cool attitude to a divine revelation, then to an amazing fighter, to secret crush, to mortal but oh-so-gorgeous enemy, to first kisser – which was a long-awaited change for Hashirama, indeed – and finally to the origin of Hashirama's yearning. Finding a state that would please them both sounded rather complicated at the moment.

Just as Madara was losing his grip on Hashirama's shirt, the Senju gently put his arms around his shoulders and brought him close to his chest. After exhaling the scent of his neck, he took Madara's chin with his hand and lifted his head for their gaze to meet. _That_ damn, gentle gaze again, the one that was starting to melt Madara's composure. The one that was warming up his heart. The one that had saved them both in the past.

When Hashirama opened his soft and very attractive lips again, Madara thought he was going to kiss him. He wished he really was. He wished the Senju had understood his hushed feelings, buried deep inside his heart, which even he had no idea how to decipher.

"I will wait."

And with that, he released his chin and broke the eye contact.

That amazing, startled look on Madara's face as he parted his lips to answer turned Hashirama inside out like no other sight in the world. He felt dizzy again. Maybe he didn't have to wait to taste those addictive, pink lips. Just a little bite, the Senju thought as he bent down, completely hypnotized by Madara's beauty.

"Father, I've found him!" shouted a childish voice close to them. Very close.

The two founders quickly broke apart and hid the blush on their faces before heading to the shouting voice.

"Hiruzen, don't be so loud," said a deeper voice, that likely belonged to the child's father. Madara for sure recognized this annoying Sasuke Sarutobi. Well, considering that he had just taken him out of an embarrassing situation, Madara decided that for the moment, they were even.

"Senju-sama, shall I speak to you about the Sarutobi clan?" he asked. Again? thought Madara. But God, that guy has nothing else to do in his life other than stealing Hashirama from him to talk about his clan?

But wasn't Madara the one who first wanted to get away from his warm embrace? There were two opposing voices inside his head, messing up with his mind, making him completely lost in his feeling.

The Uchiha watched his friend get away with the Sarutobi's clan head with a smile, as if nothing had just happened, as if nothing had ever happened between them.

"You're Madara Uchiha, aren't you?" asked the little boy, Hiruzen, if he remembered correctly.

"Yeah, what do you want?" He answered, still puzzled as he walked out of the little alley, not knowing where he was going.

"I…I just wanted to say that both of you, Senju-sama and Uchiha-sama, are my heroes."

It seemed that the Senju fool had finally reached his dream. Madara smirked before turning around, leaving the boy behind, and leading to the Uchiha compound.

"One day, I really wanted to be just like you." Said little Hiruzen as he watched Madara silhouette disappeared. Madara froze.

_"Look at me Nii-san! One day I will be strong, just like you!"_

He went back and knelt in front of the small boy, who was still far from his teenage years.

"Hiruzen, right?" Asked Madara.

"Y-yes!" answered the kid, impressed by the harsh tone the founders used.

"Hiruzen, I will tell you one thing: Do not look up to heroes. Such people do not exist. Whatever you think they are, your heroes aren't what they seem. When you've been where both Hashirama and I have been, you'll understand."

Little Hiruzen stood dazed in the large alley, watching Madara's back as he left him on that sour note. The warm hand of Tobirama on his shoulder took him off of his reverie, and both of them joined the Senju headquarters where Hashirama and Sasuke had been looking for the boy.

* * *

_I don't own "Who's the f*ck are Arctic Monkeys" lyrics._

_A/N :__ Here is chapter one ! I had a really hard time writing 'intimate' sequences…It's my first yaoi story so I'm not really at ease…(not talking about the "I'm not an English speaker" thing that doesn't really help but anyway…_

_I hope I could get some feedback so I can improve myself to get that story better ^.^ Thank you for reading till the end, despite the horrible mistakes and funny ways of talking e.e_

_Queenie_


	2. Faith

_A/N :__ Sorry for the wait. Thank you Vesta for beta-ing me =) I know it's not always easy…you're wonderful and you deserve a lot of hugs and good HashiMada waves! (Everybody should give her a cookie. Now. Come on give her one!)_

_I have to warn you (again, no lemon ahead sorry) but, Tobirama isn't really my best friend... (No offense to his fans, it's just a fanfic and I don't want to start a debate but…anyway, don't be surprised)_

_**Edit** : Sorry, there was some typing mistakes, that are now gone ^^_

* * *

**Chapiter 2 : Faith**

* * *

.

o0o0o

.

Madara was walking around with a couple of Uchiha teens, showing them the village progress and the spot where they would have to work today. Every single shinobi from both the Uchiha and Senju clans were required to help with the construction – even the annoying Sarutobi clan along with the annoying Shimura clan was assisting – and after recovering from their wounds, the Uchiha proved more than useful, even though their contributions were minuscule compared to Hashirama's Mokuton miracles.

They stopped next to some scaffolding, already occupied by Senju men working. To Madara's great surprise and displeasure, everybody greeted each other with what seemed to be a true smile and went working as if they had never been deadly fellows in the past. Madara frowned in front of such naivety. He could feel Hashirama's waves exuding from every single villager and it sickened him.

Speaking of the devil…Hashirama's brother, Tobirama the great albino, was paying them a visit.

To Madara, this man, the murderer of his own little brother, was the reincarnation of the future and soon to be failure of Hashirama's – no, _their_ – dream. Most of the Uchiha were completely fond of Hashirama; maybe Madara was himself, a little bit too much in his opinion; but they were more skeptical about the Senju's little brother. He hadn't done anything _yet _that justified such suspicion- it was true he had killed numbers of Uchiha but so had Hashirama. Nevertheless there was something in his attitude that was…not trustworthy.

Tobirama came next to Madara and stared at the young Uchihas, handing beams and other stuffto the Senjus. It was his gaze, Madara noticed. Hard, cold and defensive, the exact opposite of Hashirama's. The two Senju brothers were like two faces of the same coin: perfect opposites. Thinking of this hurt Madara even more as he remembered how complementary he and Izuna had been.

As the Uchiha's bent his head, quite depressed with his mind full of Izuna's memories, the young Senju glanced at him, and smirked. That simple gesture of lack of respect stung Madara's patience and good will.

"Have I done something to trigger the funny look and the snigger, Senju?"

"Not yet, Uchiha." His tone was sharp, like the blade he used to cut his brother stomach. Madara used all his good resolve not to go for his jugular. "But I can't wait for one of your demonic clansmen to go crazy."

Madara was really glad they were standing a couple of meters away from the scaffolding. He grabbed Tobirama's wrist by force and threateningly pulled him close to him, in a suffocating and murderous closeness.

"Don't you _dare_ talk about my people like that Senju," he warned him.

"I really don't know what you did to my brother, to mess up his mind like that; but I swear I can't even start to understand why he trusts you so much, you lunatic dog."

And then the Uchiha dog showed his fangs, ready to tear that jugular.

"Madara-sama."

Some of the Uchiha's elders had joined their little reunion and were looking rather annoyed at the sight their head was showing them. Madara let go of Tobirama's wrist and turned his back to the scaffolding, now facing his seniors.

"We need to talk, Madara-sama."

God, he felt like an eight year-old child again. And Tobirama's grin wasn't helping to lessen his rage. He sighed, realizing only his little brother had been able to ease his mind and let him be at peace, but sadly, nobody like that would ever be able to replace him.

Well, except maybe Hashirama.

Madara mentally kicked his ass at having such silly thoughts and followed the rest of the Uchiha to their compound.

.

o0o0o

.

The rest of his day couldn't have gone more wrong. His own clan was starting to doubt his good will in protecting the village, as well as the peace treaty with the Senju. It was no doubt that the little scene he'd had with Tobirama did not help him one bit. Add to that the tense atmosphere Hashirama and himself created when they were standing next to each other during each meeting with the elders, due to their personal issues; Madara could easily understood how people could get suspicious.

But damn! Couldn't they see all the hard work he was providing, standing in the same room with thismurderer? They knew who he was. They knew who he'd killed. How could they ask him to be as gentle as a lamb when Tobirama was standing, alive, next to the only person that still mattered in Madara's life, unworried and proud as a peacock?

He was so obsessed with his dark thoughts he didn't see a man coming in front of him, and bumped into his chest. As he looked up to the man in question to apologize, he realized he was staring at a frowning Hashirama.

"I was looking for you."

_Well well well..._

"Tobirama told me about this morning."

No doubt this little albino piece of shit talked big about their encounter and the way the Uchiha's elders ended it.

"And we still need to…finish the conversation we had yesterday."

"Go to hell Senju, can't you see I'm not in the mood?"

"That's exactly why I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to go fishing again. Like back in the old days."

_Fishing, hn?_

_._

_o0o0o_

_._

He really didn't know why he had followed him. Perhaps it was the sincere concern he was showing that changed his mind so easily. They finally reached the spot where they used to meet in their childhood. Madara looked quite puzzled when Hashirama held him a fishing rod.

"Aren't we going to spar?" asked the Uchiha.

"Nope," said Hashirama lightly.

"We're actually going to…fish?" asked Madara again, looking rather confused at his rod. Wait, it looked exactly like Hashirama's Mokuton. Was it handmade?

"Yep." Oh god, it _was_ handmade; there was a little sharingan on the hook. "Oh, you can consider it as a gift," Hashirama added when he realized his friend finally noticed the little details of his hard work. Madara couldn't help but blush at the realization. Hashirama didn't miss any of it as he happily started humming, a beautiful grin appearing on his face.

Eventually, Madara resigned and, after a deep sigh, mimicked the Senju and started fishing.

They stayed half an hour, sitting still on the grass, not talking. As always, it was a comfortable silence, but Madara found the urge to speak. The serenity of the moment was too much for the horrible mess occurring in his head.

"The people of my clan don't trust me anymore."

"Really?" said Hashirama, frowning, quite surprised by the Uchiha's opinion. Madara was a really good leader; he had proved it countless time in the past.

"Of course, stupid Senju, do you really think I'll tell you something that's not true to sound miserable?"

"Now that you put it that way…" said Hashirama, apologizing. "But, why? You're the one that made this place real in the first place. Could it be that…they're not happy with the peace treaty?" When Madara started laughing, Hashirama wondered what part of his question was so funny.

"I told you, Hashirama, the moment I took my brother's light, you became the only hero left in their eyes," Madara reminded him bitterly.

"Even though…Madara, you're a good leader. You're strong, reflective, very clever, and you always think of the clan first. I wish your people could see you as I do."

Madara sadly smirked. "I sound perfect in your eyes."

"Maybe because I think you are."

Madara's fishing rod chose that particular moment to have a catch, and a rather big one considering the fact that both men had to grab the wooden gift to prevent Madara from falling into the river. A 10 kg grey fish was now lying next to them, wriggling and dying. When his end stopped moving, both ninjas let out the breath they were holding and Hashirama's grip on Madara's shoulder loosened a bit.

"I knew the sharingan I paint on your hook would cast some deadly genjutsu!"

"Bullshit, Senju! You know this is ridiculous!"

"Oh come on! Still have no sense of humor?"

"I'm just hermetic to _your_ sense of humor I guess."

Hashirama was laughing so hard. He was even holding his stomach, and had to let go of Madara's shoulder to keep his balance, and used his hand to keep himself upright. Madara only timidly smiled. He wished he could be like him. He wished he could let go and free his mind from his dark thoughts. But the two orbsembedded in his head were forbidding him to do so.

Suddenly he felt a warm arm curling around his waist and dragging him unceremoniously to the ground. His head landed on Hashirama's strong shoulder. Madara's mind was having the brainstorming of its life, feeling completely secure in this friend's embrace but at the same time petrified at the thought of this same friend raping him right here onto the cool grass while whispering words of love and trust and passion and soul mates and Hashirama's bullshit.

"Here, stay still, and relax. I'm not gonna harm you this time, I promise. Except of course, if you ask for it."

Surprisingly Hashirama was feeling more rational than usual. Madara indeed started to relax; and, innocently, he leaned on Hashirama's body, wrapping his arm around his waist, not knowing how much of an effect he could have on the poor Senju. He just needed to be comforted now, and he had just realized that he wouldn't be at peace until he accepted he wasn't as infallible, tough and perfect as Hashirama thought.

"The future scares me, much more than before the truce." He waited for Hashirama to say something, but Madara only felt the Senju's head turning towards him. "At least when we were at war, I could do something; my actions mattered, and I was controlling my destiny and that of my clan's. But, now that I can predict our inevitable fall, nobody cares about my opinion. I'm helpless. I feel like I'm watching Izuna die again."

"I do care about what you think, Madara," Hashirama finally spoke. "But what exactly are you concerned about? From what I've seen so far, the Senju and the Uchiha are getting along without any problems."

"That's the problem, _'so far'_. Haven't you heard your brother talking? People are beginning to despise us. It's not only me, for I would understand, but every single Uchiha is being given dirty looks. Wherever we go I can feel somebody watching me, as if they're waiting for me to fall."

"All those glances...are they there at all? Do you really see someone staring or is it just paranoia?"

"Are you implying that I might be going mad?" Hashirama laughed lightly at the pun. "Stupid Senju, I wasn't joking!"

"Yeah I know. I've just thought it was funny that, of the two of us, I'm currently the one who's going mad."

Madara frowned. Besides the silly joke, Hashirama used a very strange tone this time, a tone he had never used before. It sounded like the one Madara used, himself, when using black humor, but with a pinch of fatalism. Madara picked his head off of Hashirama's shoulder, sat up and asked him, curiously, "What do you mean by that?"

He was stunned when Hashirama followed him and, bringing his arm around his waist just like Madara had done previously, stuck their foreheads together, looking at him intensely.

"Do you really want to know?"

Hashirama's other hand came up to his neck, chin and cheek, stroking it softly, but this time his fingers were shaking. He was completely lost in Madara's coal eyes, blurred by their proximity and the heat of Madara's body against his. The Uchiha could feel his stomach tighten and his heart starting to race. But what marked him the most was the warm feeling irradiating through his whole body.

"Hashirama…" whispered Madara, frightened at the moment by the sudden gesture, "Why are you shaking?"

"I don't really know," the Senju whispered back, his nose rubbing against Madara's face, inhaling his scent, and finally landing in his hair just above his ear. "How about desire?"

Madara was more embarrassed by the warm feeling forming in his lower part than by Hashirama's words of pure lust. If he had any doubt of his attraction for the Senju, they all vanished the moment he admitted he was completely turned on by Hashirama's touch.

"Madara…I promised you I would wait…but if you don't get out of my lap, I will no longer be responsible for anything." His fingertips drew the line of the ring underneath his eye and went down to brush his lips, caressing the chapped skin, fighting the urge to lick them. The Senju had told himself he would handle his yearning on his own, really not thinking a single and innocent hug or close proximity could make him go off so easily. For the first time in his life, he was losing his battle.

That's when Madara chose to have the stupidest reflex – or the hottest, in Hashirama's point of view – and closed his lips on Hashirama's fingers, sucking them lightly. That was all it took to tear Hashirama's composure.

"God, Madara…You're really driving me mad," he said, his voice breaking, as he took Madara's face in his hands to kiss him fully on the lips, not wasting their time. He had so much to give to him, so much to share, so much that Madara would certainly not want to receive it all, but he didn't care. All that mattered was the fight of their tongue and the hands on the small of their backs and their hearts beating like they were one.

.

o0o0o

.

As they recovered from their new form of intense sparring, Madara placed his head on Hashirama's shoulder. The Senju stroked his lover's hair kindly, and found himself feeling talkative.

"You remember that day, when we were kids? After we fought with the flask and all?"

"Hum…yeah…" murmured Madara, still dazed and recovering, with his arm around the Senju's waist, stroking his skin lightly.

"I was the one resting on your shoulder that time. I remember it clearly for it was that very moment you give me Faith."

Madara groaned as he rubbed his face on Hashirama's torso before lifting his head up. "The afterglow is talking for you, Senju."

"Don't underestimate my undying love for you, Uchiha." As he felt Madara tense at the four-letter word, Hashirama quickly changed subject. "Anyway, I was tired of the Senju policy. Everybody's got their box, doing what they're told. The world of shinobi was definitively wrong and they weren't doing anything to change it. I can't even imagine how the world would be now if I hadn't met you on that river bend that day." He smiled, feeling his lover relaxing again on his lap. "Although you gave me a hard time after you found out about my name. You pushed my faith near being lost, but, thanks to the memory of that evening I spent peacefully in your lap, I found the courage to stick to the guns. I knew it was kind of suicidal-"

"Well if I hadn't stopped you that day it would have been for sure,"Madara reminded him.

"Yeah, thanks for the painful and shameful memories, Madara…"

The Uchiha patted Hashirama's side, torn between the will to comfort him or to make fun of his stupidity. Even if he had saved his life, Madara still thought that heroic gesture was completely dumb.

"Are you mad? I mean upset-"

"Drop the silly guy act already. And I'm not upset with you for trying to kill yourself for me." He paused, and frowned lightly for a second. "Woah, that sound even more romantic and namby-pamby when saying it out loud…But Tobirama's face was so priceless that it was really worth the try."

"Poor Tobirama…" He could hear that the man in his lap didn't agree with that statement but continued to speak his thoughts anyway. "When he first learned about the both of us, he was so angry. He wanted me to stop, and abandoned our dream. He said I wouldn't be able to survive in this world if I was too sentimental. I told him I won't crack or compromise, and that if I was too soft for that world, I would create a new one."

"Tobirama's a jerk," said Madara, his voice muffled by his mouth on Hashirama's torso.

"How could such an insult sound soft coming from you?" When Madara only laughed slightly Hashirama decided to continue his little speech. Madara was right; the afterglow was making him talkative.

"Tobirama wasn't really the problem, before I became the head; my father was the one giving me a hard time. Always rambling about how you Uchiha took the life of my beloved little brothers and how I should be trying to avenge them instead of trying to befriend the enemy. But guess what? Your faith supported me again. I confronted my father and told him: 'Screw you, your do-rights and individes will never unhinge us. I'll show you there is another way'- are you even listening to me Madara?"

The other man had suddenly stopped moving his hand on Hashirama's skin and was staring blankly ahead. "I didn't know…for your brothers."

Right, talking about his brothers - whose deaths were indeed horrible and had triggered Hashirama's determination, but he really had overcome that issue now – would only remind Madara of his own loss and make him feel miserable. He was going to apologize for his clumsiness when Madara took him off guard.

"I'm sorry. As the head of the clan which slaughtered your lovely little ones, I apologize."

Hashirama grinned. Madara was capable of being sentimental after all.

"Why are you smiling like a stupid dog? You should be…moved! Can you even imagine how much I'm biting the bullet right now?"

"Gah ha ha, but I am moved! Seriously…Oh, do you want me to-"

"There is no way I'm gonna accept excuses from you, Senju," barked Madara.

"That's exactly what I thought. I just wanted to make sure; no offense."

"We're good, Senju. But, how can you-"

"Hold no grudge? Well, I guess it's because I still have one brother left."

"Speaking of the devil, is he _really_ your brother? 'Cause, seriously, white hair, red eyes, cold as an iceberg, narrow minded…"

"I guess he looks more like our father than me…"

Madara held himself on his elbows to take a good look at his new-found lover. The Senju was feeling stared at and started blushing like a teenager in front of his crush.

"Your mother must have been a beautiful saint."

The sun was going down, and it's golden rays enhanced Madara's features and reflected in his beautiful, dark eyes. Hashirama couldn't help but be bewitched by the heavenly sight in front of his very eyes. But sunset also meant they had to get back to the village before Tobirama started accusing Madara of trying to kill his brother again in order to tarnish the Uchiha's reputation. They both agreed to leave and quickly put their clothes on, leaving the river bend and the 10 kg fish, and set off to their still unnamed village.

Just before they reached the front gate, Hashirama stuck his arm around Madara, bringing him close to his chest, so close that the Uchiha could feel his increasing heartbeat.

"Madara, I need…I need to know you're not regretting anything." He didn't want to scare him but he was so head over heels for Madara that he couldn't stand losing him for some trivial yearning he wasn't able to refrain from.

"I don't, Hashirama."

The Senju sighed. He could feel his own heartbeat slowing.

"But, I don't think that I -"

"I know you don't. I told you I would wait."

Hashirama released him and both men started walking, more and more away from each other, until they reach the front gate.

.

o0o0o

.

Madara's day hadn't been that bad, after all. He didn't even frown when they ran into Tobirama on their way back home. The albino asked where the dinner Hashirama had promised him were, but, they couldn't care less. They had found in each other what they couldn't have found anywhere else.

Faith.

But all those feelings were soon to be blew off with the designation of the first Hokage.

.

o0o0o

.

* * *

_A/N : I'm not even sorry for making Tobirama a jerk in this fic xD_

_This is OOC I know. It's also not really important for the story line…It's really Hashi/Mada centric so don't worry._

_I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it and, see ya for next chapter Feel free to review ^-^_

_Queenie_


	3. Tenchû

_A/N : Hi guys ! And girls...I guess there is more girls than boys here...anyway._

_I'm so sorry it took so long to update. It's totally my fault. This chapter is...very long. Too long imo. But I couldn't stop so...here is super long chapter._

_Again, I'd like to thanks my beta, Swirlycloud, for her patience and comments. She is an angel. (She didn't received your cookie from last time but I guess they're on their way. Right?)_

_Anyway, go on with the story._

_Warning : Mito appears in this chapter. This is _not_ a canon Mito but I need this Mito for the well-being of the story._

_Edit : HAHEM. Two sentenses decided to go on vacation...Sorry, mistakes are fixed. (Never again I'll wrote 7k chapter...never again)_

* * *

**Chapter 3 : Tenchû**

* * *

They were sitting on that cliff, with Madara in Hashirama's lap, looking over the village from their favorite spot. The daimyo had asked them to find a name for their little dreamy land, but none of the founders would have thought the simple task would be much harder than actually _building_ the whole place – which was, of course, easily accomplished, thanks to Hashirama's Mokuton.

And the Senju's cuddling hands were definitely not helping.

"Could you stop just a minute? I'm trying to _think_!" Madara warned, turning his face toward the owner of the gentle and oh-so-soft hands that were cuddling him.

"I'm not preventing you from doing it. Unless..." Hashirama leaned and brushed his lips against Madara's ear. "Unless I'm distracting you?"

"Just get of my lap, Senju," barked Madara, as usual. Hashirama thought for a second to remind him that _he_ was the one on _his_ lap, but found Madara's neck way more attractive than a silly joke to dedicate his mouth to. As the Senju started licking and biting on the pale and soft skin, he felt Madara's head move backward, resting on his shoulder.

"Hashirama..." groaned the man, unhappily, and he hit the man behind him with his elbow as Hashirama bit a little too hard on his neck.

He sighed and finally withdrew into to his previous position, with his hands still on Madara's waist, unmoving. The Uchiha was just so difficult to negotiate with sometimes.

It wasn't like he was waiting for a big love story anyway. He knew this before he even realized his feelings for the man. Madara was just not the romantic lover type as Hashirama was, period.

But he had never dreamed that something could ever have happened between them before it actually _did_, and as naïve as Hashirama was, he kept on believing that his feelings would soon be shared with his troublesome lover.

But god, did he have to be so distant? It was starting to sadden him to no end.

Hashirama stopped thinking about their relationship. His gaze on remained on Madara's gorgeous face, and realized that the dark spiky-haired man looked rather concerned, and in deep thought. His mind was already back to business...to Hashirama's great displeasure.

"I knew that sitting like that was a bad idea," Madara finally said, breaking the not-so-comfortable silence between them, which in a way spoke volumes about the unsaid issues the two men were having deep inside their minds.

"You can't find a good name for the village yet?" Hashirama asked him, lightly teasing him for his incompetence as a 'name-finder'.

"Not when I'm constantly thinking of you."

Hashirama froze.

Did that man have any idea of what he was doing to him?

Hashirama's – _poor_ – heart skipped a beat before returning to a rather quick pace; he could not really believe what he had just heard. He could feel his cheeks turning red and the dizziness of his head increasing with the realization. Or maybe he was just overreacting.

Calm down Hashirama, Madara Uchiha is not the one head over heels for you, he is not he one thinking day and night about you, not the one wishing to spend his entire day inhaling your scent in your lap; you are. And you're the one torturing yourself with this silly thought of Madara thinking of you and caring about you and loving you and-

"Hey, are you even there?"

Madara's harsh voice came and took Hashirama out of his reverie. The Senju tried to get his composure back before facing Madara straight in the eye, intentionally telling him a partial lie. "Of course, as long as I'm with you..."

Madara frowned and finally got up, muttering something Hashirama didn't understand – something about a "bad idea" – and reached the edge of the cliff. The Senju, feeling his bad mood exuding from his dark aura, stood carefully a few meters away, but his gaze never left Madara's silhouette.

Wind was blowing their hair randomly around their features, hiding half of Madara's face in the process. But that did not prevent him from catching Hashirama staring at him like he was some kind of work of art. Oh god he hated that glare. He knew the man, and knew his strength oh-too-well, but right now, for the first time in his entire life, Madara was finding his best and worst enemy _weak_.

Since that little '_event_' near the river, the two founders had spent much more time together, enjoying their company for most of the time. At first it looked like nothing had really changed, except for when they found themselves all alone – and then, Hashirama would get closer, encircling Madara's waist with his strong arms, running his warm hands through his black locks, dropping kisses down his neck, until Madara would finally give in and turn to face him, aroused and blurred by Hashirama's touches, kissing him back hungrily and pleasing him until they made love on the floor...

_At first_, it didn't bother Madara very much.

But then, Madara started making experiment. He no longer waited for Hashirama's touch and would directly kiss him full on the lips, and the Senju would respond in no time, becoming hard every time Madara slightly teased him. _Then_, it entertained him. He would smirk every time he managed to turn him on in the middle of a meeting with others clans' heads – Sarutobi included, to his great displeasure. He was just _so_ sensitive sometimes...

In the end, Madara realized that he had achieved what he had never done before: he was winning. Against Hashirama. And his greatest enemy wasn't resisting. Even if he was the one receiving, Madara always felt in complete control, deciding when they would meet and what they would do, and the Uchiha soon found out Hashirama's mood was greatly influenced by his own. He began to play with this new piece of information; cruelly – like a child torturing a small animal, overwhelmed by the power of life and death he had over his new toy – he pushed Hashirama to his limits, only to find that he had none. His _love__, _or whatever – Madara didn't know what the word really meant, and so didn't like to use it often, especially when talking about Hashirama – really was undying and his attitude nearly submissive.

Hashirama Senju was not submissive. He was the damn God of Shinobi and knew no equal, not even Madara. He wasn't the man whimpering when Madara left his lap in the middle of the night or the one who wanted Madara to choose the damn name of _their_ village – sometimes Madara had to remind the Senju it was not only his own – and to rule it afterward.

Hashirama's love had made Madara as inoffensive as strawberry jelly. Madara would rather have kissed Tobirama than to have fallen in love, if that was what was waiting for him.

Now the big deal was to make Hashirama fall from cloud nine, but at the same time, cushion his landing to the hard ground of the real shinobi world. Madara then realized how much he sounded like Tobirama, and it pissed him off.

That's what Madara had been thinking about as he rested on Hashirama's lap, instead of figuring out a stupid name for their village. Being distant, refusing Hashirama's affection...all those moves turned out to be more complicated than expected – as if an invisible centrifugal power was dragging him into his lover's lap – and Madara found himself forced to make small talk to ease the tension that was building in his shoulders.

"What's that new building near the Senju compound?" he asked. Even if they were far from the village, with his Sharingan he was able to fully distinguish the symbol on the banner, and was rather surprised he could not recognize it.

"Oh, they're Uzumaki. You know, the old cousins I talked about last time," Hashirama said after clearing his voice, sounding as normal as possible. "They're just a couple of hundred and since they're like family-"

"But who do they think they are? You didn't even let the _Uchiha_ near your compound. And we're supposed to be _CO_-founders," he raged, emphasizing the 'c_o_'. Again, the discrimination against his clan was clearly apparent, and Madara couldn't get any angrier at the moment.

"Calm down, Madara, would you? We already talked about that. Tobirama-"

"Oh, right, there is always something about Tobirama when it involves pushing the Uchiha away." If only Hashirama's blind love for him could make the troublesome brother disappear from his view**...**

"Stop being so suspicious of Tobirama. He is not as bad as you think he is. And you can trust me – there is not and will not be any plot against the Uchiha! Not as long as I'm standing to prev – ouch!"

A violent gust blew against the height of the cliff, bringing a few leaves from a oak tree nearby. One of these rebellious leaves chose to chafe against Hashirama's cornea while he was shouting at Madara, causing the Senju to stop his speech and rub his eye to ease the pain.

"Ah, this is Tenchû, Hashirama." Madara smirked. It seemed that the Heavens were finally on his side today. "You should be careful and not make promises you won't be able to keep."

"A single leaf can't be the instrument of _Heaven's Punishment_, whether you want it to be or not, Madara. A leaf is a leaf."

"Then, what about 'Konoha'?" Madara abruptly suggested.

"What about leaves? It's not because I mastered the Mokuton than I'm a fine garden- wait, you're not…you can't possibly…" Hashirama stammered – maybe for the first and last time in his life – when he realized what his lover meant by that.

"Why not? Konohagakure. Sounds fun! The hidden village…of the leaf! How _scary_. I tell you Senju, if we weren't allies, just hearing the name of your village would send me shivers of _pure terror__," a_dded Madara with his sarcastic tone. He was so good at it that Hashirama barely managed to hide the grin that was threatening to light his face. But the situation was too serious; Hashirama thought for a second to reason his lover with pure logic, but instead, chose to use Madara's old habits.

"And you'd be wise to be scared. I'd crush you with _Heaven's__ Justice_ using nothing but these tiny leaves."

"And inactivate my sharingan by giving me a pink eye?God Hashirama, you're so…_petty_**."**

It wasn't just what he said; it was also the way he spoke those words. This time Hashirama didn't suppress his laugh and wholeheartedly expressed the amusement Madara was causing him. His giggles only stopped minutes later but were soon replaced with a serious frown. "But you're not serious? Are you?"

Madara was, indeed, deadly serious.

**.**

**o0o0o**

**.**

As they were headed to the village, Madara was jubilating; he couldn't wait for Hashirama to announce to his dear little brother the name _they _had chosen for the village. Sadly, making Tobirama's life miserable was one of the only entertainments Madara currently had, and he was making sure to enjoy it 'til the very end.

Nevertheless, his happy mood was obscured by a pair of bright red heads, apparently waiting for them in front of the Senju compound. It wasn't the fact that he didn't recognize whom they belonged to that irritated him the most, but rather it was the delighted face Hashirama was showing when greeting someone that wasn't _him. _

This person being Uzumaki Mito and her father, head of the Uzumaki.

They started chatting about childhood memories and how good they looked and how beautiful the village was – the red head girl wasn't taking her eyes off of Hashirama when saying so, which highly annoyed the left-out Uchiha, not really sure that this featherbrain was actually talking about the village, or rather its co-founder – and how the weather was fine during their journey and other simple-minded bullshit.

Eventually Hashirama decided to introduce his "good friend" and "co-founder" of the village, the one who had found the "fantastic" name of the place – yeah, the Uzumalki head thought 'Konoha' was _absolutely terrific _– the great Uchiha Madara.

The aforesaid Madara didn't take the time to notice the frown on the Uzumaki head's face as he was busy with staring harshly at the young lady who was mindlessly curling her arms around Hashirama's right upper limb. Who the fuck did she think she was? True, she was far from being ugly, with her little up-turned nose and a couple of freckles making her rather cute, but the way her eyes glittered as she looked at Hashirama like he was a work of art – wait, that was reminded him someone, didn't it? – was just so gross and disgusting. She could have kissed his shoes and the floor he walked on and it wouldn't have been any different. From the moment Madara's eyes landed on that young woman – 'cause she was obviously younger than the both of them, he noticed after looking so closely for a couple of minutes – he had made up his mind: Uzumaki Mito was a shameless little slut.

The truth was, Madara didn't have any idea of what those two had shared in the past. And obviously he didn't have any idea of what Jealousy was either – so how _could_ he understand the concept of Jealousy when he was, at the same time, blotting out the concept of Love ?

But it was too late; Tenchu had already started**. **

His internal denigration almost made him miss the start of what would be the end of Hashirama's world of peace – if only…

"But I thought you were the one leading this place, Hashi-kun," said the Uzumaki, who was clearly a much closer relative than Madara would have thought in the first place, considering Hashirama had hardly spoken of them before they actually _threatened_ to invade his personal space. "No offence to you, Uchiha-sama, but I'm a bit confused. How would you manage to make decisions for the village if there are two heads?" The little hairs on Madara's neck erected.

"Actually," started Hashirama, freeing himself from Mito's grip as he caught sight of Madara's change of mood, "we've been meeting with the heads of all the clans we had gathered here. At the end of the day, the two of us discuss about what we shall do, and so far…we have never run into trouble."

_So far..._

"But what would happen the day when the two of you disagreed?"

"I don't know, I guess we would find a compromise." To be honest, Hashirama never thought that he might disapprove of one of Madara's propositions for the village's development. They may be very different, and with drastically opposite personalities, but when it came to the village and political activities, they would always reach the same conclusion, together. Because, in Hashirama's humble opinion, what mattered the most at the moment, for him as well as for Madara, was the well-being of the village and its people. Nothing more, nothing less.

"But one day-"

"Listen my dear, I don't want to be rude, but –" Hashirama tried to put an quick end on this conversation before something irremediable happened; however, it seemed the Heavens were against him.

"Actually Uzumaki-san is right, Hashirama. We should discuss this possibility. It's not because things are going great _so far_ that this would always be the case."Madara said, referring to the conversation they'd had on the river that day – the day neither of them would ever be able to forget – about the Uchiha's future. "Someone has to be chosen before such a case occurs. You can never be too careful, Hashirama."

Madara wasn't as blind as Hashirama, or maybe he was better at hiding his disappointment, but he knew there were some subjects that were left behind because they couldn't find a common answer. It wasn't a big deal most of the time, but Madara had noticed long ago that there was always a subject that Hashirama never talked about when he was around.

It was Tobirama and his future investment in his eventual rule of the village.

Things needed to be settled now before anything permanent happened and caused harm to his beloved but hopelessly blind clan.

"Well, I guess you would make a perfect leader, Hashirama-san," said Mito. Madara found her voice surprisingly sweet, despite the fact that the words she spoke made him want to tear her slender neck into pieces and then make her dad drink her own blood in front of the entire Senju clan – Hashirama included.

(Of course, Uchiha could join in the event—Madara wouldn't want them to miss such a show.)

"Actually, I think Madara would be a better leader than me."

The Uchiha smirked at seeing the sheepish-looking faces of the two Uzumaki after hearing such a statement from their relative. If only Tobirama had been there…

But to be honest, Madara was a little taken aback by Hashirama's opinion. It's not like he wouldn't be happy with the Senju becoming the only head of the village, but he wasn't blind. Or Stupid. Or in love, which seemed to have the fantastic capacity of combining both those ridiculous _qualities_, especially when you're named Senju Hashirama. People were already calling that stupid dreamy man the _'____God of Shinobi_' and praising him and worshipping his nindo – the Will of Fire, how…___soppy__. _Madara wouldn't be surprised if in the next few days people started building temples and shrines in his name and decided Hashirama's birthday to be a public holiday. So with all this, how could they get over their 'God' not being Hokage?

It was funny how Hashirama's own charisma had reach the entire village but the man himself.

Concerning the Senju head, the poor man was feeling extremely uncomfortable at that very moment. Not only had the daimyo asked him to find a name for the village, but also to choose a single leader; at the same time, he had more or less implied that he wouldn't be surprised if Hashirama was chosen to lead the « whatever-name-you-find » village. Hashirama had been wanting to discuss the matter with Madara alone, but couldn't find the courage—the courage to go against everybody's will and make Madara their first Hokage. How could they not see how perfect he was—for the function? He was so angry…angry at the daimyo, angry at the Uchiha, angry at Tobirama, angry at the Uzumaki, and angry at himself for being angry at everybody that mattered in his life simply because of a single man, this man standing next to him, who was glaring daggers at him with his red, hypnotic eyes.

And he was very uncomfortable with the idea of being angry, no matter who the target of his wrath was.

"Uchiha-sama, Shodaime Hokage…" repeated Mito's father thoughtfully, cupping his chin in his right hand, considering the situation very seriously. Madara crossed his arms against his chest and lifted a single brow, obviously waiting for an answer – or a reason to bark, Hashirama thought – and the Senju got nervous again. He frowned, and suddenly stiffened as Mito took his arm again.

"But, Hashirama-san, what does he have that you don't? Is there a subject where only he can best you, to praise him like you do?"

How could he answer her properly when all he wanted to say was "just _look_ at him, dammit"? Thick, jet-black hair, unruly but sliding gracefully between his fingers; soft skin, maybe even more pale than Mito's ginger skin, tasting like spices and orange blossom ; long – _endlessly _long – fingers complemented with perfect nails…

Hashirama had to stop thinking about his lover's body before he started drooling in front of his close relatives and looking like a complete idiot. His thoughts were irrelevant; Hokage were not chosen on who had the best manicure…

"Maybe Madara isn't as strong as I am, but he is fine strategist...better than I'll ever be. He knows how to read people and how to use their potential more efficiently than any other man I know. He is also very devoted to his clan, and I'm sure once he has the responsibility of the village in his hands, he will-"

"I certainly behave much more cruelly than your Hashirama-san," Madara cut him off, locking his eyes with Mito's, trying to punish her for asking such a stupid question. "It can be useful in wartimes."

"But we're not looking to prepare for war, Uchiha-san," retorted the Uzumaki. "Right now, there is peace. You should get used to it now that the village is settled."

"Those who want peace prepare for war," Madara barked back.

"Madara!"

The stubborn Uchiha turned his head and faced what seemed to be a calm Hashirama, but he knew the man better. Hashirama was actually quite furious inside and just didn't want his family to know.

_Oh, there are so much things you don't want them to know, Hashirama…_

"Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Uzumaki-san, young lady..."

Madara turned on his heels and started to get back to his house, but before he did, he wanted to make sure Hashirama understood his warning. He completely leaned on his lover's side and turned his head, brushing his lips against the Senju's long, rebellious hair, with his hot breath brushing against the skin behind his ear in a threatening, but oh-so-sensual way.

"We need to talk. Tonight. Your place," he commanded; his husky whispers barely reached Hashirama's ear, but the intention was enough to make him understand the message underneath. It wasn't a mere warning, a sensual invitation, or even the start of a sadomasochist game; no...it was a real threat.

A bead of sweat fell down from Hashirama's temple to the crook of his neck.

**.**

**o0o0o**

**.**

Hashirama didn't even know how long he had been waiting. What time was it anyway? Two in the morning? Maybe more... He couldn't see the moon from the window he was leaning against anymore.

Cold meals neglectfully decorated his wooden table, along with two wine glasses and an untouched bottle of Madara's favorite red wine. Hashirama was happy he was able to resist the urge to open the bottle in order to make the wait more bearable – otherwise, he would have been completely drunk by now.

With his temple lightly touching the cold glass of the window, he was about to let sleep take over him when a loud knock made him jump from his chair.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Care to let me in? I have a beautiful crystal stiletto for you to try."

Hashirama got up and opened the window, sighing. "That's Cinderella. But, thanks for the compliment; I'm finding myself rather _handsome_ too."

"Whatever, I'm not really fond of fairy tales anyway." Madara stepped inside the Senju's kitchen and glanced around, his sight already having adapted to the darkness the room was in; he first noticed a bottle of French wine waiting to be opened on the corner of the table, with two dishes, cold and untouched...

"For a romantic person, Hashirama, you disappoint me. You could at least have lit some candles."

"Well, it's not really _my_ fault if they burned out before you decided to join me." It was a blatant lie, but Hashirama couldn't have cared less. Madara would have known if only he'd have been there on time. Ladies and gentlemen,at this very moment, Senju Hashirama wasn't in the mood to deal with such trivialities. He was exhausted.

Not the physical kind of fatigue—he was a Senju after all, he could heal his wound without making any seals—no, it was something else, something even more tiring than a day-long fight with Madara. After Madara had left Hashirama alone with the Uzumaki, Tobirama had decided to join them. And then, the three of them had decided to dedicate their afternoon to talking about Uchiha Madara, and how he was dangerous, evil, and untrustworthy, and how Hashirama, who was _so_ great and perfect, could even tolerate to stand next to him and talk to that '_piece of shit_'- according Tobirama.

Hashirama had then used all his strength to defend him against his family's assault. He felt like the ten year-old kid by the river, trying to persuade his father that the boy wasn't bad, that he would never betray him, and that they were linked with the red string of destiny – at least Hashirama had hoped so. Nothing had hurt him more than hearing his dear family insulting the man he was deeply in love with.

And now Madara was just there, casually wearing his bed kimono – dark blue, Uchiha fan printed on each shoulder – taking one glass into his hand at a time, pouring them each some of the dark red liquid.

"You don't want to eat?" the Senju asked, seeing Madara lean on the table without paying any attention to the dishes resting upon it.

"I ate long ago. I'm not hungry." Hashirama features hardened. "But you can have a bite; I don't mind at all."

This, added to all the frustration he'd accumulated throughout the day, nearly broke Hashirama composure. Dammit, he hated cooking. But he'd prepared something for Madara this evening—a good meal to ease his mind before they talked about unpleasant issues. He even remembered humming while chopping the vegetables...

And look at how much Madara appreciated his efforts! _Zero, nada, rien—____h_e didn't even thank him. That's what normal people do, usually.

But then Hashirama remembered Uchiha Madara wasn't a normal person.

"So you wanted to talk about-"

"Drink first. We'll talk later." Madara pressed him with the full glass of wine, forcing it into his hand, with his gaze never leaving the Senju's face. The Uchiha wasn't blind— there was something wrong with Hashirama. At first he'd thought that his little Machiavellian plan, making him wait an entire night for him, was a total success, but there was something more. He wouldn't say that he was worried, but more...intrigued. And he wasn't a fool to provoke the Senju even more when he was already near breakdown. He guessed a little drink would ease the man before they talked about what happened this afternoon.

Hashirama finally took the glass in his hands and drank it in a single shot. Madara couldn't help but stare at the absurd gesture – such a waste for such good wine...

"So, what do you want to talk about?"

God, Madara has never seen Hashirama so pissed off. This was going to be a long night. And a long talk. Maybe tonight wasn't really the right moment to talk about it after all; maybe he should have hushed his childish tantrum and met him in the late evening, instead.

"You're obviously not in the mood to talk about such important things, Hashirama," said the Uchiha. He wasn't pleased by making such a statement, but the future of the village was in the balance, and he couldn't afford to discuss the matter with _this_ Hashirama.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"Well, I guess...I'll leave you alone then. I have nothing left to do he-"

He was stopped by Hashirama chuckles. Creepy chuckles. But that's what happens when you're not used to drinking red wine...

"Don't tell me you came all the way here in the middle of the night, only wearing your yukata, just to _talk_ to me, Madara."

Hashirama quickly grabbed Madara's kimono and closed the short distance that was separating them, violently crushing his lips with his own. He was feeling dizzy. He would never know if it was the wine or Madara's scent, both combined with the fatigue, but he suddenly realized how stupid he was. He was close to breaking his entire kitchen just because of _Madara_. This was insane.

As their tongues fought for dominance – of course, Madara never said no to a make-out session and Hashirama knew this too well – he thought about their first time near the river, and how he told himself his obsession would never have an impact on the other parts of his life. He smiled when he remembered how he nearly insulted the Uzumaki head this afternoon, just before slamming the door in their faces – Madara left his lips to lick his earlobe and his jaw and Hashirama shivered; how could a single lick bring so much pleasure? – He knew that his family loved him deeply, and that they would never turn their back on him, but today's behavior was unacceptable. And yet, he didn't regret anything he had done this afternoon.

Madara was changing him. His undying and burning love was eating him alive, and he knew why. He had to make that change, quickly, before he lost his mind.

He _had_ to know.

"Uchiha Madara," he said solemnly, taking his lover's head in his hand, lifting it so it would meet his gaze. "I love you. You have no idea how much I love you. I nearly got disowned by my brother just because of you, and if he'd decided to do it, I wouldn't have any regret."

"Wow, I didn't know you could be so pissed and so terribly romantic at the same time. Well done, Hashirama," said Madara sarcastically, hiding his uneasiness by glancing at the ceiling.

"Look at me Madara!" he whispered harshly, too afraid a scream would escape his lips and wake his brother. "I'm fucking serious. I said I could wait but-"

"Now you want to know how I feel about us, don't you?"

Hashirama let go of Madara's head. He was surprised his lover could figure him out so easily. He thought he was the only one to pay attention to the other habits and personalities...but he was pleasantly surprised to find out he was wrong.

"I understand Hashirama, but could this wait a little longer...?" Madara teased him, brushing his hand underneath Hashirama's robe to his abs, and getting lower and lower and -

It definitely could wait a little longer.

**.**

**o0o0o**

.

Uzumaki Mito was an early riser; even before the first rays of sunshine hit the glass of her window, she was in the kitchen, preparing some tea— Hashirama's favorite.

She'd known him since they were kids, and she knew when he was feeling a bit down. He didn't like to show it, always holding everything on his large shoulders, but sometimes he just needed to relax and to open up a little, to share his pain and sorrow. Mito wanted to be the one he shared his doubt and fears with. She'd do anything for him to treat her like something more than a childhood friend.

So there she was, five in the morning, holding three cups of tea on a wooden tray – one for her, and one for Tobirama – hoping Hashirama would be awake too. He was an early riser, too, but, just in case, she knocked on the door. You could never be to careful...

Nobody answered.

She sighed, but wasn't discouraged. She tried to open the door by herself with a single hand – with the other holding the tray – and found out it wasn't locked. Surprised, she entered the hallway, took off her shoes, climbed up the stairs, and headed directly to Hashirama's bedroom. He would have never let the door open if he was sleeping— she knew him. By heart.

If she had stopped in the kitchen, first, she would have noticed two untouched dishes and two empty wine glasses on the table, along with an opened bottle.

When she reached the door, she leaned to knock, but stopped when she heard two voices talking. Probably Hashirama and Tobirama. It was so cute to see them so close to each other after all this time.

They were whispering, so she couldn't figure out who was talking or what they were saying; so she just decided to wait, not wanting to end their 'bro' moment. She loved them so much.

Inside the bedroom, Hashirama was stroking Madara's hair from the top of his skull to its end. They hadn't talked at all for the rest of that night – except for their soft moans and cries; it was a miracle Tobirama hadn't woken up this time - and Hashirama was feeling more and more uncomfortable. The dizziness he had felt previously had partially vanished and now his stomach was hurting at just thinking about what Madara was about to say.

Or maybe...Madara would just go, like every other time; without a goodbye kiss, without looking back, without any proof he had enjoyed the moment with him, leaving Hashirama half-broken on his futon.

It was enough. Hashirama sighed, and opened his mouth-

"Why do you love me?" asked Madara, taking him by surprise for the second time that night. Hashirama frowned and Madara lifted his head off from the Senju's torso, looking at him like a child who'd just asked where babies came from.

"Why? I mean, why does it bother you so suddenly...?"

"Because I don't know what it is to be in love. So, if you want an answer from me, I'd rather learn what it is before giving you my reply."

"What do you mean by you don't know what it is to be 'in love'? I mean, you never-"

"No."

"And your parents-"

"No."

"And your friends-"

"I have no friend but you Hashirama. That's why I'm asking you. It's just a coincidence that we're also lovers."

"Really?" Hashirama rolled his eyes He didn't know how to answer. He had felt so linked to him, so quickly—it was nearly love at first sight. How do you explain such things?

"Hashirama, the only human being I have been close to, except you, I mean, was my brother. He is the only person I loved. I know nothing else but that bond I had with him. And... I know I don't feel the same for you. I don't know what it is. I feel good when I'm next to you or when you're touching me; but does that mean that I love you? Or will I feel the same if another person does the same? I don't want to mistake love for lust or the other way around."

Now Hashirama could understand what Madara was going through—the man had no experience and simply didn't want to give him the wrong idea.

"When I look at you, and at everything you're doing for me, I realize I can't say that I love you until I'm one hundred percent sure. Otherwise, I'll kill you."

Hashirama chuckled. "And I thought I was the only one taking our affair seriously."

"You're the only thing I have left, Hashirama; of course I'm taking it seriously. Whatever it is. So tell me...what is it to be in love with someone?"

Hashirama sat on the bed, taking Madara in his arm and lifting him up in the process. He curled his arm around his naked back while Madara stretched his legs around each side of Hashirama's hips, his arms resting on his strong shoulders.

"When I wake up in the morning, before I open my eyes, you're the first thing on my mind. I'm wondering if you had a good night, or if you're feeling okay, and what you're doing at that very moment. But then I open my eyes and realize that the sun isn't up yet and that you're probably still sleeping. I wonder if you ever dream about me, 'cause I dream a lot about you." Hashirama made a few gestures to see Madara's reaction, and dropped kisses on his collarbone. Simply being attentive to Hashirama's words, Madara was deep in thought; if he was happy or scared, nothing appeared through his features. "Then, I spend my day with you, or I try to. I'm always finding excuses to see you every day. I don't feel good when you're not around. I feel...bored, for some reason. Food doesn't taste good if I'm not eating it with you. My sleep isn't restful if I don't fall asleep in your lap. Even the color of the sunset doesn't seem so bright when you're not with me to enjoy it.

"Sometimes, when I haven't seen you in a while, I just turn around in the street 'cause I thought I'd smelled your scent; but most of the time it's just my imagination. And when I come home and you're there waiting for me, I feel like the happiest person on Earth; I could just die in your arms without any other thought. I love you, Madara. Every minute of every day. I love you. And I'll love you forever."

Hashirama pulled Madara close to him. He could feel his fast heartbeat against his own torso. He inhaled his lover's scent deeply, the scent he loved so much, and let a heavy sigh escape his lips. He had finally done it; he had opened his heart, and all that was left to do was to wait and hope Madara would do the same."

The Uchiha lowered his head to kiss Hashirama's, and brushed his finger through his long brown bangs.

"Hashirama... I don't wake up thinking about you. I've never slept well since Izuna died, nor have had a good meal, either. The days I like the most are the ones I spend with you, but I could easily skip one or two. Sure, I miss you sometimes, and that's when I drop by and welcome you back. You're the only person I feel comfortable with, but...I'm a loner; I've made up my mind long ago, that ever since I stole those eyes...I will remain alone. I wish I could say I love you. I really wish I could. But right now, I can't." Madara dropped another kiss on top of Hashirama's head and cupped his cheek, lifting his chin, for their eyes to meet.

Hashirama didn't look as devastated as he would have thought. So why was Madara feeling slightly disappointed?

"But I feel bad for making you sad. I guess it counts a little..."

Hashirama just wore a sad smile. "No, that just mean you're human."

Madara chuckled. "Well, considering half of the population thinks I'm a demon-"

"No, you're wrong. I'd say nearly the whole population."

"Hashirama..."

"I get it, I get it..." They fell silent for a couple of minutes, just cuddling and softly kissing each other on whatever part of skin their mouths found. Hashirama was indeed sad, but he was an optimistic person. If Madara couldn't say it 'right now', he'd just have to wait until he finally could.

"Maybe I should go-"

"Or just stay, for once."

Madara was about to answer when both of them were distracted by a loud clash of porcelain hitting the floor and a cry. They immediately turned their head and found an astonished Mito, her hands suspended in the air – they had probably been handling the tray that was now at her feet, Madara thought – her mouth wide open, but not as much as her blue eyes. They were wide and looked blank, and shocked, from having caught the man she was in love with in bed with another...man...and what man.

"I'll...I'll...go..."

"Mito, wait!" Hashirama tried to stand up but Madara was still sitting in his lap.

"Let her go. I'll take care of her. Your brother is going to get up in a minute; you should deal with him."

He was right. But still, Hashirama was a little scared of what Madara had in mind concerning poor Mito. He sure would have a lot of things to tell her after she'd pulled herself together and found her peace of mind again.

Her vision was blurring. Just breathing was becoming more difficult by the second.

She knew him. She knew him by heart. He was her soul mate, she was...she was so in love with him. How could he...how could he...

She stopped to catch her breath in the kitchen. There she saw them—the bottle of red wine and the glasses.

Hashirama never drank wine; he hated it...and Tobirama never drank at all. Or did he?

She thought she knew them by heart—she was family. They grew up together. They played together with the same toys. How could life tear them apart so quickly? How much did she miss?

She leaned on the door next to the open window.

She had only missed one thing, she realized; and this thing was right in front of her, with his dark blue yukata clumsily tied with a nonmatching belt – Hashirama's white one.

"What are you doing here?" he barked. Mito thought she could have died just by looking at him in the eye. Those red eyes...just like her hair.

"I could ask you the same, Uchiha-san," she answered softly, trying to find her voice. To her great surprise, she found that she sounded rather confident. If only her knees weren't shaking like a leaf... "After all, we have settled just a few meters from here, while your compound is at least five kilometers away."

"Oh, you think that because you have settled near him, that gives you any rights over him?" His tone was harsh. Mito nearly felt like she was having a heart attack – that was before Madara leaned over her and whispered in a ear; now she felt certain of it.

"Young lady, I don't know who you are, or what you know, and I don't care about what you want. Your little attempt to settle near Hashirama is all in vain – 'cause the settlers have already settled near him, long before you did. There is no longer a place for you in his heart. And I highly doubt there has ever been one."

He withdrew to his formal position and reached for the window that had been left open. "Now if you would excuse me..."

And then, Uchiha Madara left, leaving the room in a total mess – but it was nothing compared to Mito's state of mind. Soon it became dawn, and Mito was encircled by Tobirama and her parents, all of who wanted to know what was going on.

But as they stood there, she could not take her eyes off of Hashirama, and the guilty look he wore on his face.

* * *

_A/N : The idea of Tenchû is taken from Rurouni Kenshin. Before the Meji Area, Patriots were fighting againt the shoguna and assassinate people, leaving a paper with the word "Tenchû = Heaven (well deserved) Punishment"_

_Here, it's more a idea of bad karma..._

_What Madara said "those who want peace prepare for war" is a Latin address : __Si vis pacem, para bellum_

_Finally, my thoughts about the story itself..._

_In my mind it was suppose to be a one shot. A kind of song-fic one shot. But I got overwhelmed with HashiMada feels and now look at me...I wrote 7k chapters...just kill me already xD_

_BUT, it gave me the opportunity to work on characterization. So, the two first chapters maybe looked...a little weak compared to this one. Maybe I'm improving but I also think a lot more about what I'm doing with the character. _

_Anyway, I'm very happy._

_Now just wait for Hashirama and Madara to have a talk in the scans :D_

_Thanks to all the reviewer, I love you all, you are very sweet (some of you are too sweet but I really DON'T mind)_

_And yeah reviews are appreciated (it gives me motivation and +2 of english levels!)_


	4. Eclipse

_A/N : Hello everybody !_

_I'm not gonna say I'm sorry for the wait. I'm just very slow. There is nothing I can do about it...so if you could just deal with it nicely like very nice people I'll be glad :D **Ahem**, more seriously, chapter 4 was suppose to be in three huge parts, and it was really getting too long, so I've cut it in three other parts. The three next chapters will be the pillar of this story. I hope you're gonna like them as much as I liked to write them =) (and more than swirlycloud, who beta-d them, and is still recovering in her bed right now)_

_I'll see you guys at the bottom page ;p_

* * *

**Chapter 4 : Eclipses**

* * *

He was back in his room.

Hashirama was sitting on the hard floor, close to the sliding wooden door, and Tobirama was standing in front of him. Maybe he was looking at him, but the older brother had no idea, for _he_ was looking blankly at the chaotically arranged white sheets on his bed, which were the only reminder of his previous activities with Madara.

_Madara_, again. The man really wasn't getting out of his head.

Hashirama knew he should really stop thinking about him while his younger brother was right here and feeling _furious._ Yeah, furious was a strong word but it suited the man pretty well at the moment. Hashirama had already experienced Tobirama's different states of anger – when he was pissed, he would just talk cynical and groan; when he was mad, he would usually shout bad words and atrocities he didn't want his future children to hear; but when he was angry, deeply angry, he would just stay silent.

Right then, Tobirama was just staring down at his older brother with his arms crossed over his torso, as if he was waiting for something—an apology? But for what? Being in love? No, Hashirama would never apologize for that. Maybe for having scared Mito...or maybe it was simply because it had to do with Uchiha Madara.

"Listen, I know what you think about-"

"I figured it out long ago, you know." His brother cut him off. "Remember when I started following you whenever you left for the river, as a kid? I already had my suspicions back then."

"..." Hashirama couldn't find his words. He hadn't expected this. "How?"

"I'm a sensor, remember? I was able to see your change of mood faster than you could. You were always overexcited to go _fishing_...that was just too _strange_ to be true."

Hashirama felt like a stupid teenager being caught by his overprotective mother. But he was glad – this was better than having no one who cared about you. Tobirama had always been there for him, and even if lately there had been some tensions between the two of them – guess thanks to who – he knew he could count on him. He would never waver.

"I never said anything 'cause it didn't bother me...so far. But seriously ? In our house? Next to _my_ room?"

"I know, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kept it secret from you. But I was expecting that kind of reaction, so you should easily understand why I didn't really feel totally thrilled to share my love life with you..."

"Never mind, that's not the point. The point is, you're doing ridiculous things thanks to this ridiculous relationship. And _that's_ what's bothering me," the younger one added. "He scared Mito to death, Hashirama. He is insane. How on Earth could he be better than you to rule the village?"

"You know nothing about him brother. You're blurred by your apprehension, you-"

"I don't think I need to know a man who almost made you commit suicide in front of your last remaining little brother to prove his point. You're the one who's blurred, Hashirama – not me."

The elder brother frowned, feeling sorry for all the problems he'd caused. Mito had been in such a state of panic that he'd nearly felt his heart break upon seeing her. She was his best friend; he had known her since forever…He had never wanted to see her in pain, and especially not because of him.

And now, Tobirama was calling him by his _name_. Twice. That was usually a bad sign…

"Eventually, you'll have to repair the damages you've caused," he said, giving his older brother a hard look.

"I know. I'll apologize to Mito-chan and then I'll talk to Madara. I promise you it won't happen again," Hashirama replied, as he stood up and tried to get out of his room to end this conversation. But it seemed his brother didn't agree with this plan of his.

"I won't happen again 'cause you won't be able to see him. Ever again. He needs to go."

Hashirama stood at his front door and blinked several times before turning his head to Tobirama. "What are you talking about? I'm afraid I don't understand…"

"You understand very well, brother," Tobirama said bitterly. "You're just burying your head in the sand. Madara is a threat; he is strong and unpredictable, and he scared our people. Even his own clan had rejected him. We need to exile him."

"What?!" Hashirama was totally taken aback; he wasn't expecting to hear such an extreme measure, not from his brother. There was no way Hashirama would let Madara go. He was the Senju head – he was the one making decisions, and he and only he could decide to do such a thing.

"I know you. Even if you said that it won't happen again, you won't stop loving him. You didn't stop when we were at war, so why would you stop when we're at peace and living in the _same_ _village_? That's why the only way for you to keep your trousers on is for him to leave the village."

"Wait, when I was said 'it won't happen again', I meant doing _things_…here. I never meant I wanted that relationship to end," barked back Hashirama. He was feeling nauseous...and oppressed. It was like a horse was walking on his chest and he suddenly had trouble breathing properly. Was Tobirama really expecting him to…but...he just couldn't! They had just made a new step! True, it was far from being perfect, but still, Hashirama felt a little bit happier every day he spent with Madara. He didn't want it to end. He couldn't even imagine how life would be without him.

"I was afraid you'd say that…" Tobirama sighed and let his arms fall at his side. "But there is no other way you'd have fixed things. The Uzumaki head already knows. His precious and only daughter was threatened by your lovely boyfriend – I'm surprised he didn't ask for his head already."

"He is just mad at the moment, but he'll calm down and-"

"Hashirama, for God's sake! How can you be so blind? Can't you see the Uzumaki are not the problem here?" Tobirama shouted, almost making the walls of the room shake. "That Uchiha dog _IS_ the problem. If he stays, he will cause more problems and dishonor the village we have worked so hard to build!"

"You're forgetting the fact that he is the one who made it possible, Tobirama," Hashirama hissed, feeling really pissed by his brother. The whole conversation reminded him of the previous one they'd had the day before.

"No he isn't. You are."

The older Senju froze. He took a deep breath and thought a minute about what Madara had been telling him lately – he'd told him about people only seeing Hashirama as a hero. He'd told him about his clan and how bad he'd felt about their lack of trust. He'd told him he was insecure…and Hashirama hadn't believed him. He just couldn't imagine people thinking that way about Madara. People were always smiling at them when they were walking down the streets, always greeting them with gifts and warm ovations...

And then Hashirama realized what his mind had been putting aside for so long.

He was the only one receiving warm and loving looks. Madara only got brief glances, and silent bows of respect – or maybe it had been fear, all along… Hashirama didn't know what to think anymore.

He was lost for a moment, but chose not to get discouraged; soon, he had his old composure back. And now, he was sure of only one thing: he would never, ever let go of Madara. It would certainly take some time, but he would make sure everybody in this village learned to know the man and to appreciate all the things he had done for them so far; this was now his new goal.

But first, he had to convince his little brother.

"Tobirama, listen to me. I need you to trust me on this. I will-"

"Sorry to interrupt you," a voice said from downstairs. "But I'd like the two of you to consider my offer."

The two brothers turned their necks and looked at the Uzumaki head, and then at Mito, who stood beside him. Mito looked much better than the last time Hashirama had seen her; she had redone her hair and added some make-up to her already flawless visage, which masked her freckles. Her father looked very serious as usual, but not as angry as Hashirama had thought he would be.

"I heard you considering exiling Uchiha-dono."

Tobirama nodded briefly before letting the Uzumaki continue. "But as Hashi-kun said, Tobi-kun, he is one of the founders. It would send a rather pitiful image of the village to the other countries. Dismantling and throwing your partnership away will only be interpreted as a sign of weakness. He shall stay, if we are to want peace."

"But-"

The Uzumaki hushed Tobirama by moving his forefinger nonchalantly. Hashirama knew something bad was coming – the old man seemed too happy and too confident for someone who had just witnessed his own daughter in tears, shaking like a terrified lamb.

"However, there is a way to…get Madara away from you, Hashi-kun. This evil man has troubled your healthy and pure heart. You need someone to take you back into the light."

Hashirama was really frowning hard. Though he was a man of peace, he really hated people who considered that homosexuality had something to do with the devil. It was just love, for god's sake. You could not choose who your heart was going to love – man or woman. Period.

"There is only one solution for our two clans to be friends again after this little incident-"

"I'll do anything you want to apologize for making Mito-chan scared."

"And it will certainly strengthen your position as the leader of the village at the same time."

"Seems like a wonderful idea!"

"You will marry Mito."

Here came the hammer blow. Hashirama didn't even hear Tobirama's reaction. His mind immediately went blank. When he regained awareness of his surroundings, his brother was calling him out and shaking his shoulders.

Hashirama could see the worry on his face. What had really happened? He felt like he had been hit on the skull by Madara's Susanoo and-

_Madara…_

_...'You will marry Mito.'_

He was having a nightmare.

"Hashirama, you should take a shower. I'll prepare breakfast and then we'll talk about it."

Hashirama slowly nodded and walked to the bathroom. He didn't even close the door as he undressed and stepped into the shower, letting the burning hot water fall over his body. But he didn't care – nothing else mattered.

The Uzumaki had asked for Madara's head without realizing it, and Hashirama had no choice but to give him what he wanted.

Back in her home, Mito silently sat on her bed. Just a little while ago, she had walked with her father around the whole compound, and spread the good news to her family, who all had commented on how wonderful it was. The relatives she felt closest to could even tell that her dream had finally came true...and they were right.

Her dream really had come true: She was going to marry Hashirama.

So then, why was she crying?

******.**

******o0o0o**

******.**

Hashirama had slept a few hours, maybe – Madara hadn't really allowed him to sleep, lately, and that certainly wasn't going to change over the next few days – and he wasn't really pleased to find out he had still to cope with his persistent headache.

The universe had a very caustic sense of humor. Hashirama had found himself dreaming of his childhood, back when he had first 'broken up' with Madara – the day when they were just kids on the river, throwing their stones, warning each other – but it had been so much different; they were no longer kids. In his dream, Hashirama was wearing his night robes, and Madara his armor. Hashirama had looked at the stone he held in his own hands. The kanji for 'Ai' – love – suddenly appeared, and he had thrown it at Madara, deliberately trying to hit him in the chest, right at his heart. The Uchiha, wearing no expression on his face, had caught the stone in his left hand, never letting his dark gaze off Hashirama. He didn't even look at the message written on the rock, and Hashirama had felt his heart pumping in his chest when the man in front of his eyes had thrown the stone back to him. But then he'd gasped when his little brother – a 10 year-old Tobirama – had appeared in the middle of the river and caught it halfway in the air.

"What are you doing, brother?" Kid Tobirama had asked in a neutral tone. "You shouldn't play with him. He is dangerous. He killed our brothers."

"Tobirama…why are you here? How did you-"

"Mito told me. She was crying. She said you were in trouble. That you were dancing with the devil, and that I should do something about it."

"That's stupid – Madara is not evil; he is really so much more than what you want to see. He is-"

"Then why is everything burning around him like he comes from hell?"

Hashirama had looked up and seen the forest behind his lover, burning with dark flames. Madara had turned on his sharingan and was holding his fan in his right hand.

"He doesn't love you. He never will. He just wants to lure you. To hurt you. To kill you. He _is_ the Devil, Senju. We will have our revenge."

As Tobirama spoke, his child-form had transformed into Izuna's dying body, with his face covered in blood as it also seeped from his stomach. The young Uchiha was grinning; it was an evil smile Hashirama had never seen from the man – and in his hand had been the stone the young Tobirama had caught, earlier. He only had time to read the bloody kanji '_Yake_' – despair –before he had then heard Madara's voice shouting at him. Then after that, he had woken up, covered in sweat, panting. No wonder he was still having a headache…

Despair…was there really no hope left for them?

It was already past noon when Hashirama decided to get up. Tobirama had stayed silent during lunch, but Hashirama hadn't noticed, for he was too lost in his own thoughts - but at least Hashirama's mind was not blank anymore. The older Senju recalled talking about the wedding this morning with the Uzumaki head – well, the Uzumaki had been the only one talking, while Hashirama had only nodded blankly during the whole speech – and they were to spread the goods news during the afternoon.

Hashirama knew that he had very little time before Madara learned about it, and if possible, he wanted to avoid that situation entirely. As painful as it sounded, Hashirama wanted to be the one to break the news. Maybe then, if Madara loved him, he would see the sorrow on his face. Then Hashirama would know.

So he found him, on a little cliff near the Uchiha quarters. Madara had his falconry glove on his right hand and was actively looking through the sky, obviously waiting for his pet to come back. He looked beautiful, as usual – breathtaking, if you would ask Hashirama. So proud and confident and strong and manly and magnificent-

"Have you heard the news?" Madara said in a bright tone without turning around, as his falcon finally landed on his wrist.

Hashirama's heart stopped for a second. Was it already too late? How come he knew already? How was he going to explain…?

"People are praising the _genius_ that came up with the name 'Konoha'. Seriously. Am I the only one here who isn't lame?" Hashirama stressed out immediately, but quickly remembered that he came here for a reason. He couldn't afford to just stand here and look at this lovely grinning man.

"Madara…"

"The funniest thing is that they _all_ think it's _you_. 'Cause something good can _only_ be coming from you. I can't wait to see their faces when they learn that I was the one who came up with the name!"

Oh god, this was bad. Madara was feigning a terribly 'good' mood. Hashirama was completely surprised – him being in a good mood might happen only as often as solar eclipses, and he would never forgive himself for breaking his mood so abruptly.

Madara…"

"I'm sure they will all look exactly like that ginger chick when she walked in on us last night to see us naked, and in your bed – I mean, did you see her face? She was like-"

"Madara!"

Even though he could never get enough of saying his name – he especially enjoyed moaning it at times – Hashirama didn't have the patience to deal with Madara talking badly about Mito. She really had nothing to do with it and was totally innocent, and after last night, traumatized for life. Hashirama had the feeling Madara would hate Mito even more after he heard what he was about to say.

Now Madara had fully turned, facing his lover, with an annoyed look on his face; his grin was gone, and so was his good mood. Feeling his falcon biting on his ear, he sighed and let the majestic bird fly away from the cliff, leaving them completely alone. "Is this about last night?" he asked, not hiding his boredom. When Hashirama slowly nodded, he frowned slightly. "Is there…something I did that you didn't like? But you seemed so blissful that-"

"Oh, no, this has nothing to do with what we did last night. It's more about what happened _after_ what we did last night. Could we…talk about it in private? It's kind of…a delicate issue."

"Why? You're afraid Kira might listen to us and repeat what we're about to say to the entire forest?" Madara demanded, still annoyed. He liked being here on this small cliff, and he didn't really want to leave, or go home – or whatever name he could give to the place where he slept at night.

"Kira?"

"The falcon, Hashirama. God, I always have to explain the most obvious things to you. You don't have to worry about her; even if she is a very intelligent falcon, who I suspect can understanding what I say sometimes, she is just a bird. With a birdbrain."

"That's not the point, Madara…" Hashirama sighed and massaged his forehead as if he was in pain – well, he truly was; his headache had returned at the speed of light as soon as Madara had used his sarcastic tone. "After you left, the Uzumaki head came to our house to check on Mito-chan…and he wasn't really pleased with what she told him."

"Oh, really? How disappointing. I couldn't wait for him to spread confetti all over the streets to celebrate our lovemaking. It's such a shame."

"Can't you be serious for a minute, Madara?" Hashirama couldn't hide the pain away anymore like he always did. His eyes were crying for help. Just once, he wished someone were there to help him carry the burden that weighed on his shoulders. He knew no equals on the battlefield, but this was a completely different matter. Feelings, emotions, expectations…he could control his own, but Madara's had always been a guarded secret to him. He could handle the man during a fight, but that was the _only_ thing he could seem to do.

"Okay. Let's go inside."

He was surprised that the Uchiha had finally bent.

But it seemed he was still far from finding out just how caring Madara could be when it concerned a certain man beside him - and right now, this man just looked terrible.

As they walked towards Madara's house, they passed by a few groups of Uchiha. They all saluted their leader, blowing silently without giving him a look – but Madara didn't even seem to notice; it was like he didn't care about them at all. Everything was so neutral, conditioned, formal, and cold...the exact opposite of the fire that was living inside Madara's chest.

Hashirama was feeling uncomfortable. Was he really the only one able to see the truth in Madara's attitude? Or was he the only one mistaking it for what it wasn't?

_'You're the only thing I have left, Hashirama. Of course I'm taking it seriously,' __he recalled._

What would be left for Madara after he married Mito?

"So, what did you want to talk about? Is it about the 'Hokage' thing again?"

"Not at all." Oh right, there was that other problem he had to deal with, that could possibly cause Madara to crack. Nice. Life was such a bitch sometimes.

"Then what is it that makes you so upset? Is someone dead? Don't tell me that ginger girl hung herself after seeing our work of art in action!"

"Her father has commanded me to marry her."

He spat it out in one raw statement. It was better to root out the devil as quickly as possible before his resolve started to waver. Now he just had to wait for Madara to digest the news. Hashirama had been readying himself for Madara's response – his expressionless face, his anger, his 'I don't give a shit' speech, his wrath…but not this. Not _this_.

Right in front of a devastated Hashirama, Madara was having the laugh of his life.

He really had a musical laugh now that Hashirama could – _finally_ – hear it.

"Oh right...let me breathe…" he began, as his laughter died down, "To put it simple…that ginger hillbilly, after discovering you were totally gay, found that it was a good idea for you to marry his precious only daughter ?"

Well, of course if you put it that way…

"He is even dumber than I thought. So, what are you going to do about it? These Uzumaki are clearly a nuisance. First they enter your home and open your room door before dawn, and then, they stick their nose into such private things as _marriage_."

"Actually, they're family. We were raised together – Tobirama, Mito, and I – when we were very little. Our mothers were very close."

"Oh. Excuse me if I don't really remember how a family is supposed to work."

"Right. Listen, I really don't need you to put Izuna on the table now. This day is only going to get longer and I really, really don't need this."

"Yeah, I guess kicking your own family out of the village won't be a pleasure cruise."

"Madara…" He didn't know how to deal with his lover's denial, but he understood him so well…it was so easy to be in his shoes just for one second and to see things from his point of view – Madara's way of thinking had always been much more simple and dichotomous. If the Uzumaki were a nuisance, then he just had to take care of them and make them disappear. If only it was that simple...if only there weren't such expectations from him. As Hashirama remembered his conversation with Mito's father, his words of wisdom echoed in his head.

_'Get a hold of yourself, Hashi-kun. You represent your clan, and soon, you will represent the whole village. You're not a teenager anymore; people from the outside won't forgive even your slightest fault. You will carry the hopes and dreams of thousands of people, and they will weigh heavily on your shoulders. Your life is no longer yours; you will live for the village. You need to be flawless. You know what to do when your foot starts to show the stigmata of gangrene…"_

You cut it off.

Unless you're so in love with your foot that you're trying every single medicine and even start praying for the gods to leave your foot where it truly belongs – just under your ankle.

"I have to marry her." If he did not, Madara was going to be banished from the village – but he couldn't tell him. That was part of the deal.

"But you don't even love her! Where has our romantic Senju gone? You can't marry a woman who would trade her own father for a smile from you, not without loving her! You'll kill her! That's totally unfair," he said angrily.

"It's also unfair for the man who's going to marry a woman he considers as his little sister because the man he is helplessly in love with decided to show up outrageously late last night!"Hashirama shouted.

The Senju saw Madara frown, certainly because he was upset that Hashirama continued to argue back. "You'd be fool to think I'm doing this of my free will...I love you. You're the only person I wish I could marry and spend the rest of my life with."

"Are you _really_ putting all the blame on me, Senju? I'm used to all the villagers blaming me whenever something gets screwed up, but this…coming from you…"

"No, I'm not. Don't misunderstand me, Madara." Hashirama felt like a drowning man trapped underneath a sheet of ice, struggling to reach the surface.

"So what did you come here for? My blessing? Fine! Go and marry that chick. You're welcome, goodbye."

"Is that really all you have to say?"He asked as he raised his voice one more time, trying to reach him.

"But what am I supposed to say, Hashirama? Don't tell me you came all the way here to see me beg you to stay with me – don't you _dare_ think I'll belittle myself 'cause of this girl. For someone who's supposed to be head over heels for me, you don't know me very much."

Madara was wrong: Hashirama knew him very well, and he had never expected him to just fall on his knees, begging for him to stay – at least not under these circumstances. But Hashirama was a dreamer, and was desperate to see any sign of love coming from the man in front of him.

"You could at least…show something! It's like all we have shared the past few months have been nothing to you. How do you think I'm feeling right now?"

"You're expecting _me_ to be _jealous_?" Madara crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow, clearly more than annoyed.

"Well…in a way…I guess the answer is yes."

"Ha!"

There was nothing in this whole damn world Hashirama hated more than Madara's sarcastic laugh at the moment.

"How could I ever be jealous of someone else when your entire human being is crying its love for me?" Madara got closer to Hashirama, and played a finger around the end of his long straight hair. "You will never love her. I'll be haunting your thoughts, day and night. I even bet you'll be moaning my name in her ears when you penetrate her."

Hashirama caught Madara's wrist away from him. He hated when he was being vulgar – it didn't sound like him at all. Madara tried to get away from his hold but his lover did not let him – instead, Hashirama only strengthened his grip and pulled him close to his chest, rushing his free hand through his black locks.

He tried to speak again, but all the words he wanted so much to say would not leave his throat – maybe they was nothing left to be said? Here he was, set to marry Mito, and Madara didn't seem to mind at all. But that was it – there was nothing else between them, after all. His brother had been right; he had been blurred all along.

Without thinking, and before Madara could stop him, he wrapped his arm around the man's waist and pulled themselves together.

"What are you doing? You're an almost married man for God's sake."

"I just don't feel like letting you go."

"Oh no..."

"What?" Hashirama brushed his lips against Madara's temple and started to drop light kisses down to his chin. How could he detoxify himself from Madara's smooth, smooth skin?

"You're playing the 'before I get married let's do it one last time' act."

Hashirama withdrew abruptly from his comfortable position. "No I'm not! I mean, there will be plenty of occasions..." Hashirama couldn't finished his phrase and let Madara pull away from him. The moment he had verbalized his thoughts outloud, it became very wrong. It had never occurred to him that continuing his affair with Madara would mean cheating on Mito. Well, he already had the feeling that he was cheating on Madara, and it was detestable; he didn't want to add any more hateful feelings on top of that.

"I guess we should stop seeing each other."

This was followed by an uncomfortable silence**. **Madara's words were nothing but common sense. So then...why were they so hard to accept?

"I guess it's a good opportunity for me to explore. That way I'd finally be able to compare what we shared together to other human beings and-"

"Don't you dare."

The next thing Madara saw was Hashirama's furious eyes on him while he felt strong hands crushing his cheeks bones in an attempt to hold his face and make him meet his gaze. "You won't do that to me. I forbid you."

"Really? I'm really curious to see how you will proceed."

"You can't possibly be serious, Madara..."

"Do you really think I'm joking?"

He had a point. He wouldn't do something like that on a serious matter like this...

Hashirama's mind was suddenly filling unbearable thoughts and images – Madara touching someone else, Madara kissing someone else, Madara moaning someone else's name... The thoughts alone were enough to drive him completely mad.

"Please...don't..." His grasp became soft again, and he caressed Madara's face like the treasure it was.

"I'll be very discreet about it...What you don't know can't hurt you."

"I'll kill you if I ever found out."

"As if you could."

Hashirama hushed him with a deep kiss, and curled his finger around his neck, stroking the base of his hair. "You have no idea what I would do for you, Madara. Please...I know I won't be able to handle it. I love you so much... Please. I need you to be mine and mine only."

But Madara did not agree. He made sure to bite hard on Hashirama lower lip as he broke the kiss and removed himself from his lover's arm.

"You're a selfish monster. How can you ask me to be only yours when you're the one marrying someone else? Do you even realize what you're asking of me, Hashirama? I don't think you do. Just...get out of my house. Now."

Madara had already turned his back to his unwanted guest and was ready to leave the hall and back into his room.

"Madara-"

"I said get the fuck out of my house, Senju!"

A moment later he heard the loud sound of Madara's room door being harshly shut, and then...nothing. It was a piercing silence.

Hashirama had no choice but to get out. He eventually found himself wandering around the village – and then some. How he ended up in front of his family grave, he would never know.

Cold facts hit him hard – his brothers, mother and father were buried six feet under, while he was complaining about not being able to marry the one he loved. He was _alive_. He could speak, he could walk, he could love, and he could make things change, again. But he felt like his heart had been torn apart from his thoracic cage, and couldn't move a finger without being overwhelmed by the pain.

He was paralyzed, and he hated it.

As only guilt and sorrow filled his eyes, he knelt down and joined his hands, and engaged in private prayer.

For the first time in ages, Senju Hashirama was crying – and trust him, it happened as often as solar eclipses.

******.**

******o0o0o**

******.**

After a few days had passed, the situation wasn't getting any better. Hashirama was still depressed, Madara was still missing. There was only her father and Hashirama's brother who seemed to be pleased with the marriage.

Mito was not blind. She was a rather intelligent girl for her age, and more clever than her father thought she was. Things were not going very well in Uzushio. The Uzumaki clan had been respected for a long time for their sealing skills, as well as for their abnormal longevity, but as time went on, people started to fear them. To hate them. To chase them. To want to...eradicate them.

They needed a strong ally. Someone they could rely on – someone who, just by their name, could scare away and dissuade their enemy from attack in just the blink of an eye.

Her father wanted that man to be Senju Hashirama. And when he asked her to come with him that day, she knew it. She knew that he wanted her to marry the man, and that he wouldn't leave the place without this...safety net. He was doing this for the clan, just like everything he had always done and would always do.

At that time, Mito really thought she could made Hashirama fall for her. She had not been raised only to be a perfect wife – she also had all of her clan's culture and secret techniques with her; she was a valorous kunoichi, and was not afraid of battle. She was what was closest to the perfect wife for him.

She had never expected Hashirama would want a husband.

And there she was, hiding behind a tree, watching him. He never went anywhere without his brother – Tobirama made sure he was never alone, or worse, accompanied by a certain Uchiha – nor without another clan head. They kept him busy, but Mito could see what they all chose not to.

He was feeling miserable. He could barely smile, barely speak, and she suspected that he was not sleeping properly, either. On the first day she had arrived, some villagers had told her that Hashirama was like the lungs of this village – that he had inhaled all the nasty air of the war and transformed it into oxygen, giving life to the village; but right now Hashirama looked like he'd stopped breathing. And it was all her fault.

She should not have been there. She knew it; she had ruined everything the moment she had decided to force destiny and enter his room without knocking – it was as if an invisible force had guided her towards her final destination.

Mito was looking at him through the falling leaves of an old oak-tree. One's man loss is another man's gain, they said... She never thought her marriage would stick to this old adage so well.

She knew she couldn't be happy if he wasn't feeling the same; she couldn't live knowing she had destroyed the happiness of the one who meant so much to her. She loved him more than anything, and wanted him to be ridiculously happy for the rest of his life, more than her own happiness – she cherished him more than her own life.

Sometimes she wished she had never come here with her father at all... Maybe, without her, Hashirama would be wandering around the village, instead, alongside his dearest Uchiha friend...walking...talking...smiling...laughing... joking...breathing, simply, just living...

* * *

_A/N : I love Author notes, but since someone said that long author notes aren't good and show how __much the author lack of self esteem I kind of freak out and – oh god dammit I'm just too talkative!_

_Tell me what you think ! This chapter was just horrible to write – it was like, inspiration didn't want to come out. Plus, I have started a new fic in French so my mind is getting confused all the time...blablabla I know shut up Queenie._

_See ya for next chapter ! - I hope I'll post before the end of the summer – ha ha ha – that was a joke don't worry._

_Q._


	5. Hapiness Only Real When Shared

_Queenie speaking :__ Hi guys. It had been a while..._

_I know I'm sorry I'm soooo slow ! But anyway. I hope you still remember the story. Cause sometimes I forget myself! I'm not even kidding...I've got a bad memory._

_So just for you, a special recap of last chapter!_

Hashi got fucked

And not even literally

_Tada o/_

_More seriously : Hashirama is going to marry Mito. He told Madara and they broke up. (Damn why did it took more than 5k words to write?)(edit : after checking it took me 6,380 words. Gomen Swirly, Gomen)_

_Anyway, I hope you're gonna have a good time reading this. Thank to my sunshine for the beta._

_PS :__ There is a legend (on tumblr mostly) that say that I hate Tobirama. It's...only a legend you know. Really. I'm not kidding..._

* * *

**Chapter 5 : Happiness only real when shared**

* * *

**.**

**o0o0o**

**.**

"You should try, you know."

"I've already told you. I'm fine. I don't need another distraction-"

"Of course you're fine. How much did you sleep, yesterday? One, two hours maybe?"

"Actually, three and a half." Hashirama sighed as he sat behind his desk, more tired from his younger brother's harassment than from his clear lack of sleep. But he was still happy for the sleep he did get; he hadn't slept that much in days. Since.._.that _night, in fact.

"You should see them. Every time I show them some suiton or-" Tobirama continued his speech as if Hashirama had wanted to hear him. But his elder brother only wanted him to shut. The. Fuck. Up. He knew he really hadn't had enough sleep, or he would never have had such rude thoughts towards his brother. Maybe...maybe he was right, after all. Maybe, between the Hokage nomination and the preparation of the wedding, he could take on some...students.

"-I can give you Hiruzen if you want. I'm really fond of him – he is so brilliant and curious and clever – but you really need him, so much more than I do. I mean, you don't have any idea how he is making me happy and-"

"Actually I do," Hashirama cut him off. "I've never seen you so talkative. It's like you've just found your soul mate or something. But you shouldn't talk about them as if they were...some...merchandise; I mean, you can't _give _me Hiruzen – he is a human being."

"Hashirama. I think I've found...my new goal in life. I want to be a teacher."

It was so solemn, and unexpected, and so out of character coming from Tobirama – but there he was, with his arms crossed as usual, and with that serious look on his face, and the determination easily visible in his eyes; he was dead serious about it. And Hashirama was really...tired. The combination was enough to make him laugh. Tears came from the corner of his eyes as he tried to regain his composure before Tobirama got pissed and tried to punch him for mocking him – well, Hashirama did calm down a bit when his brother took him by the collar.

"I'm dead serious, you know," the younger of the two said as he released Hashirama's white kimono.

"Tell me something I don't know-"

"You look terrible."

"_Tell me something I-"_

"Shut the fuck up. Just come with me, dammit. I'm trying to help you."

Hashirama resigned, and eventually, they ended up on the training grounds, looking at a few six year-old boys – and more surprisingly, a girl – throwing kunais towards some wooden targets. It appeared to Hashirama that these budding shinobi weren't as good as Tobirama portrayed them, as only two or three of the deadly weapons had reached their goals. _He must be really fond of them..._

"Kids, say hello to my bro'."

"Oh it's Hashirama-sama!" shouted the kid with the glasses.

"Hashirama-sama?" repeated Tobirama, as if it he had spoken in a foreign language. He frowned lightly when he then saw the delighted faces of his students as they ran towards Hashirama, as if he was Santa.

"Is it the real one?"

"Yeah, I'm sure! I've already seen him once!"

"Hashirama-sama! Can you show us the Mokuton?"

"Can you teach us the Mokuton?"

"Can I call you dad?" _Oh God..._

"Can I-"

"Whoa, whoa – calm down kids..." Hashirama could feel dark waves coming from his brother, and by the look on his face, something seemed to be greatly annoying him... The children seemed to notice, too, especially the brown-haired kid, who came close to him and patted his leg in an attempt to comfort him – which was probably the worst idea he'd had all day.

"Tobi-san, are you alright?" asked Hiruzen innocently.

Ha. Tobi-san. He got it.

Tobirama bit his lip, and tried not to shout as if he would do if he were talking to adults – or other human beings actually – and Hashirama couldn't help but smile; his little brother looked so hurt and betrayed! That was the word, _betrayed_. Tobirama had given them everything, including his hopes and dreams for the future; Hashirama was sure he could even admit he _loved _them – which was really a big deal for Tobirama – and yet, they had rushed to him so quickly, nearly forgetting their former teacher's existence and all his efforts.

"Tobi-san...you look sad." Hiruzen's innocent voice nearly broke his heart and Hashirama swore he saw Tobirama's eyes glitter...

To be honest, the elder Senju had never thought his brother could be that soft; Tobirama had always been the more strict of the two. While Hashirama had stuck to his childish dreams throughout adolescence – and some of them remain still – Tobirama had never really had a childhood. He had coped with war, his brothers' death, and Hashirama's ingeniousness; he had supported everything on his little shoulders without a single complaint. In the back of his mind, Hashirama always knew that his cold and firm attitude was just a mask, something he had to wear at the time to make it through – Hashirama had always had Madara and their promise, and as well as his love, even if he didn't know what it was at the time; but, how did Tobirama find the strength to go through all this?

And now that they were at peace, he was finally letting go. Little by little...

"It's...nothing...I've just got something in my eye..." Tobirama tried to look away but the kids knew him better than that already – and that was quite touching, according to Hashirama.

"Oh no! Sensei is crying!" the girl said, a bit too loudly, in Tobirama's opinion. "Hiruzen! It's your fault!"

"I'm not-"

"I didn't do anything! You're the one who is always talking about Tobi-san's brother so much while he is the one losing his time with us!" barked back the little monkey.

"Don't talk about Koharu like that, Hiruzen!" said the other boy, seemingly trying to protect Koharu from Hiruzen's tantrum.

"Who wants to see how I make trees grow from nothing?" Hashirama cut in.

Hashirama's magic spell was great enough to shut their little, adorable mouths, and after an hour or so of training under the sharp gaze of their sensei, the three of them were having a nice nap, under the giant oak Hashirama had just made, leaning on each other comfortably.

Tobirama sighed, feeling a little exhausted. Taking care of kids was far from being an easy task. It was certainly not the same fatigue he had already experienced on the battlefield, but right then he found himself dreaming of a good, cool bath and some hot tea to relax for the day.

"So, starting tomorrow, you'll take care of Hiruzen. Deal?" he asked his older brother.

"I don't understand you. He is your favorite student – and he...likes you a lot more. Why? Why are you-"

"Why am I giving-"

"_Human beings,_ Tobirama."

"Why am I _lending _you my favorite students? Isn't that obvious?" Tobirama barely corrected himself and looked at his brother. He looked so tired. But he was still smiling. That could be his greatest strength, or what would cause his fall. Hashirama was someone who didn't like to bother people with his issues. Now that his heart was completely broken when everybody wanted for him to be the happiest person alive on this village – he was about to become Hokage and marry a very attractive woman, who wouldn't be happy in his shoes? - he just had to pretend. And Tobirama knew how hard it was for him. "I'm your brother."

"And? I know you're my brother. Tell me something I don't know."

Tobirama sighed again. "Could you stop saying that? It's getting annoying."

"I'd just like to understand." Why was his older brother was so annoying...dammit!

"Don't make me say it," hissed Tobirama.

"Say what?" Hashirama was now curious. Tobirama knew he wouldn't stop asking him until he split it out. He was cornered...dammit.

"That...as my older brother...I... _love _you...more than that monkey kid. That's it. I hope you're happy now."

Hashirama was, indeed, very happy. That was something he hadn't been expecting. It wasn't as if he didn't know it already...that had been something obvious; they were the only ones remaining of their siblings, and the link they had with each other was something so strong that no words would be able to truly describe... Except for maybe, the ones that hehad just said.

And then, Hashirama remembered there were things they used to do when they were kids – before the wars, before the deaths, before all their responsibilities – things that he missed. Silently, he stepped close to his brother and pulled his arms around his shoulders. He held him lightly, like a fragile piece of porcelain, as if he would break with his intention - he was in fact afraid of Tobirama's reaction and did not want to get hit or kicked in the wrong places.

At first, he felt his brother's shoulder stiffen, but soon he relaxed. He didn't really lean into Hashirama's embrace, but Hashirama didn't mind; it was enough for them. They didn't need much to understand what was in their hearts.

"I love you too," Hashirama whispered. He truly did. And he was feeling so guilty to have him worried so much that he wanted his best student to become his own. That was a sacrifice Tobirama was willing to make for him to be happy.

But Tobirama was wrong, if he thought it could make his brother truly smile again.

"So, you're taking my offer?" Hashirama nodded, and immediately Tobirama smiled. "I knew it. Did you see his face when he saw your Mokuton for the first time? He was so astonished. There is nothing better than that to get your mood back!"

Oh yeah, Hashirama had seen the look on Hiruzen's face. In fact, he had already seen that look, before.

Madara had worn the exact same face when he, too, had seen Hashiram'as Mokuton for the first time.

**.**

**o0o0o**

**.**

.

"_We need to talk. Tomorrow night. Your place."_

_._

Madara had woken up this morning with a strong headache and a warm body beside him. What was his name again..Hikari...or Hikaku... He really needed to stop drinking sake while smoking opium – that was definitely not good for his health. And it was becoming a habit he really wanted to get rid of, before it was too late.

"You're already up?" said the man sitting next to him. He was already lighting his long wooden pipe and started smoking the same drug he'd abused last night. He breathed the toxic smoke out of his lungs as Madara sat up too, and reached for his night kimono, which was messily spread across the floor, entirely forgotten in their urges last night. He didn't even remember getting home; that sake was a lot stronger than he had thought.

He lazily put his yukata around his shoulder - Hikaku seemed to be already dressed, to Madara's great pleasure – before asking in a harsh tone, "How come you're still bothering me with your presence, Hikaku? I thought I made it clear last ni-"

"Yeah, everybody knows it already." Hikaku nonchalantly inhaled more smoke as he relaxed, causing Madara's patience to disappear immediately. _'Everybody knows'..?_ What was he talking about? He didn't want anybody to be aware of his guilty pleasure – just as he didn't want to see his night entertainment still hanging around in the morning, period. This man was really...itchy.

"Madara, you're the clan's leader. Everybody always knows what you're doing." Madara frowned slightly, not really understanding what his one-time guest was getting at. "They are always watching you, studying you, analyzing every single step you make. But don't worry," he added after a small pause. "Hashirama will never find out. It will stay within our walls." Hikaku then winked and passed him the pipe, which Madara refused politely, feeling his headache still pulsing against his temples.

He was too tired to be furious, but Madara couldn't stop from wondering: how did they know about his...affair with Hashirama? Had they really been studying him? Was it because that stupid Senju was so obvious sometimes? Or maybe it was he, who had gone too far into his little games during a meeting with the other clans. Madara soon realized it didn't really matter how his history with Hashirama had been discovered; whatever it took for them to be aware of his secret garden, they now knew. But, how bad was the situation exactly? He had to know.

"What do you mean by 'they'?" he asked the enigmatic man. If he had been talking about the whole Uchiha clan, then why didn't he included himself in his statement?

"The worms. The ants. The weak. Whatever fits for you," Hikaku answered him, slowly putting down his fuming pipe on the wooden floor, next to the futon. "Those who are scared always keep a close eye on the object of their fears."

Madara smirked, not knowing if he was feeling hurt or pleased with this statement. "People still really fear me? Even after we've built this village and made peace possible..." For him, it was more than a compliment - he was a warrior, after all - but coming from his own people, it made him feel bitter. It left him with a bad taste in his mouth.

"Well, now that we know you have human urges like all of us, people tend to think of you as less of a demon." Hikaku finally turned around to look at his host, hearing him laugh awkwardly.

Madara was indeed not expecting that sort of reaction from his clan. Who would have thought his little – well, not so little – experiments were what he needed for his own people to look at him differently, as a human being? This world was definitely full of irony...

As the Uchiha leader was publicly regaining his humanity, he could hear that somewhere deep in his heart, a little voice was reminding him that what he was doing was evil. He knew he should really stop fooling around before it was too late – but too late for what?

"It's about time people start to relax, don't you think?" he asked the man beside him when his laughter had died down, while ignoring his own unpleasant thoughts. "The peace treaty has been signed for quite a while now. We will never have to go on the battlefield against each other anymore." _And we won't lose people dear to our hearts anymore. _If only...he had acted sooner...

"What a pity. I swear I could've heard Hashirama Senju's words coming out of your mouth."

Hikaku's repulsive tone took Madara out of his dark remembrance. He was utterly surprised by his attitude, for at least two reasons: How on Earth had Madara managed to bang the only person in Konoha who wasn't all over Hashirama? And more disturbing...Did he, really, already start speaking just like Hashirama?

"It seems you have mistaken the forest for the trees. Do you really think the force that has gathered all of us here, all these people from different clans and different horizons, is the ideal of Peace?"

It was the first time Madara actually cared to listen to one of his one-night lover's speech. Normally, they – men or women, he made sure to diversify his sexual experiences as much as possible – made sure to obey his orders. Even if now he realized it was probably more because of their fear of him rather than their respect for him – respect he truly deserved, being the Uchiha's clan leader. But no matter what they thought or why they acted the way they did, he couldn't care less. Not as long as he was alone in the morning, alone and free to think of this empty feeling in his chest, with the bitter taste in his mouth, and his endless dreams about Hashirama; it seemed that as soon as he had decided to get away from him, the Senju had stubbornly continued to follow him, even if it was just in his sleep.

He had been doing these night-time excursions for quite a while now – two weeks maybe – and he still hadn't found the answers he was looking for. He knew, for sure now, that he wasn't into women; but surprisingly he had also found out he wasn't that into men either. He'd come to this sad conclusion the moment he realized he had never felt this warm and oddly good feeling before, which was slowly growing inside his chest, right near his heart - the feeling he longed for so much when he was melting into Hashirama.

At first he thought Hashirama was just a better lover. After all, there were people who excelled in all kinds of activities, and Madara couldn't think of a single thing Hashirama didn't shine at. But still, something didn't feel right; it was as if he was missing something important – the immersed part of the iceberg.

When you thought about it, the Senju was quite the guy...he was built like a swimmer and didn't even work out. He was also rather good looking. Madara had never put things into such perspective, but he...liked Hashirama's tanned skin, his large hands, his warm and insatiable mouth, and the way he looked at him – his gaze, his loving and longing soft, shining orbs that seemed to smile and shine only for him. Madara never thought he would say it one day but...he was starting to miss him.

(Just like he missed eating water-ice during winter.)

"You have spent too much time with Senju Hashirama." Hikaku got up and re-adjusted his kimono, letting the dark belt that was tied around his waist hang loosely. "He has managed to sweeten you. You look like...strawberry jelly."

Madara rolled his eyes as Hikaku picked up his wooden pipe.

"There has never been peace. You know better than that...that there is only one thing, in this entire world that is powerful enough to make mankind forget about the hate we hold towards each other. And this wonderful thing is called fear. It has always been fear. And it will always _be_ fear. Think about it for a second." He lazily leaned against the door frame as he studied Madara's reaction; his shoulder bracelet clinked lightly with the motion. " Why did _you, out of all of us,_ become the head of our clan?"

Madara had never really thought about it. Everything had happened naturally – his father had been the head, and his eldest surviving son took his place – end of story. Everybody had been expecting Madara to take on the position, anyway, ever since the day he'd been born, so he really hadn't needed to think about it. After all, he was ultimately the strongest among his clan.

"You think it's because you're the strongest, and you're partially right." Hikaku was now randomly moving his pipe around, as if he wanting to prove his point. "But like everything in this Earth, it all comes back to our survival instinct. We're no different from animals, after all. You are the strongest of us; thus, you are the one they fear the most. That's how you became the head. _Fear_. Nothing more, nothing less. And that's why this silly idea of a peace treaty worked so well. Because that Senju brat is really strong...stronger than you."

After a few minutes of silent understanding, Hikaku eventually left him, and Madara was finally alone, lost in his thoughts.

So, that was it. People were gathering all around them, around their dreams, like ants, around their Queen, just because they were...afraid of them? Afraid of...Hashirama and his strength.

What did they miss?

How could their childish dreams have turn into..._this_?

People were following them blindly not because they believed in _peace_, not because they believed in love and trust between neighbors, but because they believe in the survival of the fittest.

How foolish he was, for thinking Hashirama's crazy ideals would just spread like a venereal disease in a brothel. They were in fact acting exactly just like the Uzumaki – they wanted the power of Hashirama's name to protect them from war. But it wouldn't be long before this false sense of security grew into a self-righteous and arrogant attitude.

What would prevent them from starting a war if they all thought they were on the strongest side?

Madara couldn't say he hadn't seen it coming. At first, he'd stopped believing in Hashirama's ideals, when he had accepted the Peace Treaty. But, little by little, to his great astonishment, he had started to change.

Slowly, eventually, the ideal had spread.

Hashirama had always had this ridiculous talent of making anything possible – as if he were some kind of magician. But he had been a fool to believe the same could be true for this village; he was just weak – he was the only one falling for the trick.

"_The only thing that can bring people together is a common fear. Never forget that, Madara."_

Hikaku last words echoed in his head for the rest of the day, nearly causing him to forget about the strange note he had received last night.

It had been waiting for him under his cushion. It had been meticulously curled around a wooden stick and attached with a thin nylon cord, and was written with dark ink. By the form of the letters, whoever had sent this had used a high quality feather.

"_We need to talk. Tomorrow night. Your place."_

So, Hashirama couldn't take the distance anymore? Or did it have to do with the official nomination of Hokage, which was to be settled the next day? Truth be told, Madara was getting nervous. He had made sure not to bump into the man at all, always avoiding reunions with other clans, and spending most of his time on the cliff behind his house with Kira.

But he had never been able to make Hashirama disappear from his thoughts.

Madara had been thinking hard about what he would do, what he would say, when he would meet Hashirama be again. It would mostly depend on the circumstances – would they be alone? Would he already be married? Would he be...Hokage? Madara always pretended nothing was bothering him at the moment...that whatever it was, he would be able to handle it. He had already overcome Izuna's death...he could live without Hashirama, too. Very easily.

During the days he'd spend avoiding his ex-lover, Madara often went to go meditate alone in the woods, just behind the Uchiha compound where he had last met Hashirama. He ended up lying down in the field on cloudless nights, watching the shining stars – as he used to, when Izuna was still alive. Madara really liked the feeling of the green grass under his palms, and the fresh, free wind in his hair; it made him feel nice. Good. Painless. Dumb. It was on those rare occasions that Madara wore a true smile on his face.

Then, he usually did something really stupid.

He always ended up turning his head on one side and before he had time to open his mouth, he'd suddenly remember that Izuna was dead, Hashirama was getting married, and that he was lying all alone on the cool grass.

He was alone.

How good were nature, life, and happiness when you couldn't share them with the ones you love?

This feeling of loneliness had often gotten the best of him after Izuna's death, crushing him to the ground with the force of a hundred soldiers, making him suffocate until Hashirama had come into his life and held him in his arms. It was as if he was finally able to let go of the pain. He had found someone – another human being with who he could _share_ things...the most trivial things, and the most important things: his dream, his thoughts, his fears, his bed, his..._feelings_? - That word alone sounded like a bad word to Madara's ears and he would made sure not to use it ever again.

Madara sighed as he thought about bad memories like these, and looked up to the sky. The sun wasn't even at its zenith; he would have to wait the whole day and deal with his thoughts about Hashirama before he could actually see him.

Unintentionally, the thoughts alone were able to paint a smile on his face.

As he passed by, some villagers first glared at him, but then they dropped their eyes to the ground, ignoring him.

Fearing him.

Madara had the feeling something horribly wrong was happening before his very eyes. And he could do nothing about it – he didn't even want to do anything about it. How could he when his mind was still full of Hashirama?

**.**

**o0o0o**

**.**

She was crying.

Again.

She had been prepared for this. She had made up her mind, long ago – but then, she couldn't wait any longer. It was now or never. But she hadn't thought it would be this hard.

She was determined, like the Queen of Amazon, riding her horse into battle; she wouldn't allow her father to dictate her life for her anymore.

Suddenly, she had found her hands had stopped trembling. Her voice was firm and steady. Her words were meaningful and everybody had been looking at her, and listening to what she was saying. Her voice _counted_. It was, at the same time, a blissful but terrifying moment.

(Not as terrifying as Madara's eyes literally devouring her but, still-)

"I am not marrying him."

Her father hadn't even blinked. As if he'd been expecting it. And he had, for Mito had found he'd had a plenty of arguments already prepared in his sleeve to make her change her mind. But she wouldn't. Oh, he wished she would...and he was so wrong to think he knew her like the back of his hand. She had grown so much, in such a short time; he didn't realize it yet but she wasn't his little precious girl anymore. She was a woman. A lady. And she was in love.

Her father wasn't the first man in her heart anymore. And he would never accept that - how could a father ever accept the most important person in his life being in love with a man who couldn't return her feelings? But Mito couldn't judge him. She didn't have children, and maybe she would never have, for she knew she would never stop loving Hashirama - and the simple thought of being with another man disgusted her.

She really had no idea how her father was feeling right now. Having your only remaining family confront you, resist you, and thwart your plans for the future of the clan... Mito was sure he was feeling miserable.

But her old man was wise and calm. He had stood still during her whole speech – not even showing if he was slightly annoyed or absolutely furious.

"Wartime is over. There is no longer a need to use women as objects anymore. We're not just mere dolls, ready to be thrown away by their fathers for a false alliance, or to continuously give birth to future shinobi who won't even reach their fourteenth summer. I want us to have the right to choose our own paths. If I want to be a shinobi, a housewife, or even a prostitute, then that should be my decision and only mine!"

Of course she knew that when the elders had raised their voices at hearing the word 'prostitute', she knew she had gone a bit far...but she really didn't care; it really didn't sound like her, and she liked it.

(Years later, she realized that in fact, that had sounded exactly like her and that she had been hiding her true self all along.)

They had asked her what she'd been thinking, and if she was aware that she was betraying her clan by refusing this alliance, as well as by putting everyone in danger by doing so.

Hell yeah, she knew.

"As far as I'm concerned, I could be marrying Tobirama instead. It wouldn't make any difference. He is Hashirama's brother after all. And I love him more."

That had been the hardest part of the job – trying to convince her father that she'd rather marry Tobirama than his older brother. It was nearly an impossible task, but Mito was a hothead, and it had nothing to do with her hair.

"That's enough." He had finally spoken, raising his low voice and meeting his daughter's unwavering eyes. She had maintained their gaze for what seemed to be an eternity before her father ordered the elders to leave them alone. Slowly, Mito saw her old uncles and relatives leaving the room, without looking back at them a single time. She was now facing her father alone.

She had felt like she was suffocating.

"Mito-chan...why are you brazenly lying to your father?"

Her eyes had widened. She had failed; he knew. How was she going to explain, now? Just as she'd felt her resolve begin to evaporate, Hashirama's sad face came into her mind. No! She couldn't let him down without fighting back! He needed her, right now, and she was the only one who could save him right now from his sorrow. She wouldn't surrender, not without-

"I'm sorry Mito-chan. I hadn't realized you've grown so much. You looked at lot like your mother."

In the next moment he he'd held her in his arms like he usually did when she was still a child. It had been so unexpected, so uncharacteristic, coming from him – he, who had never shown her his affection, always the clan before anything else, the clan the clan the _fucking clan_ – that Mito had gasped. She had heard him chuckle as he patted her back, amused.

"You're such a spirited...woman. You're nothing a father wouldn't be proud of...Mito-_san_."

Her mouth had been slightly open, but nothing seemed to come out. Even breathing had been difficult, and for no reason! He was just showing her...love, for the first time in ages; he was touching her, acknowledging her, trusting her, freeing her from her burden – which was more Hashirama's burden, but it was all the same to her – and freeing her from _himself_, from the clan etiquette, from her duty.

She didn't have to marry Hashirama anymore. She was free. Free to do exactly what she wanted.

"We will go back to Uzushio in a few days, after the Hokage celebration. You can come with us, or stay here in Konoha and becoming our official representative. Just let us know – the sooner, the better. And, I know that I no longer have the right to oppose your decision, but I'd like you not to become a prostitute. Your mother wouldn't have wanted it."

They had both shyly started to laugh. Mito already felt her eyes sparkling, as small tears formed in the corner of her eyes. She had hugged him, so hard, so strongly against her heart, as if it was the last time she would see him. It was the end of a time. Slowly, he had let go of her, and it was as if her whole childhood was crumbling at their feet, vanishing, burning to ashes. She felt as if a part of her had been ripped apart, still attached to her father, a part that would stay with him forever. So this was how it felt to let go.

She could see it now, this ghostly clone of her, her past self, in her father's arms, as she carefully stepped back, turned her heels, and eventually ran to the sliding door. She had stopped breathing for too long. Her head was spinning and she almost lost her balance - she would have never thought saying goodbye would be so hard.

So now, after having left the meeting room, she shot a last glance to the two figures still inside, who were still dazed in their silence embrace. "Take care of him..." she murmured; and as if the hollow image of her were real, it turned her head towards her, and smiled.

_'I will always be by his side.'_

Before the pain and sorrow submerged her, Mito slammed the door and leaned on the opposite wall. Her knees gave up, and she ended up on the ground, with her legs sticking out into the hallway, making it impossible for people to pass without walking over her.

And then, she cried. And then she shouted – a hoarse and desperate cry...an inconsolable complaint. So that's how they felt – those newborn babies after coming out from their mothers' bellies; that's why they cried. That's what it felt like to be literally torn away from the flesh that had always taken care of you.

The promise of better tomorrows seem so far, when for the first time of your life, you have to handle things alone. As tears dropped from her chin to the ground, she asked herself if she wouldn't regret it afterward. She had definitely closed the first part of her life for Hashirama, and for his happiness; but suddenly she was afraid she would never find her own.

Her cries had at least reached someone, however. Tobirama was standing next to her minutes later, and waited by her side, not saying a word until she was done crying.

It was the first day of the rest of her life. And from this time on, Mito Uzumaki would never be alone.

**.**

Back inside the meeting room, the Uzumaki head was sighing. He knew her daughter was gone, but couldn't really figure out why her fading silhouette was still in front of him, smiling, with her arms around his neck.

Then he realized; it was never Mito's.

"Koikawa...so you've come to say goodbye, too?"

Mito mother's ghost nodded, and put her head on his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of being close to the one she had dedicated her life to.

"She is so much like you, Koi'. She taught me again, what you had taught me back then, a fundamental thing I had forgotten. Would you...ever forgive me for that?"

Koikawa took her husband's face in her already disappearing hands while her body was starting to further disappear, and gently dropped a soft kiss on his chapped lips. It tasted like ashes but Mito's father didn't care. When he opened his eyes again, he just barely had time to distinguish her youthful features before the divine apparition dissipated into the meeting room, in a soundless murmur.

He still had the taste of ashes painted on his lips and he knew it would never really disappear.

"The moment you find the courage to give up your life for someone will be the moment you understand love. Isn't it so, Koikawa?"

He swore he could hear her smile from Heaven.

* * *

_Queenie speaking __(again) (yeah you know, end author note) : Let's play a game ! In this chapter there is 1 – a film reference (easy mode), 2 - a manga reference (normal mode) and 3 - a song reference (hardcore mode). The first one who find the three wins a cookie! Or a kiss. (I heard someone whispering 'Or a rectal exam, if you're a little bit strange' but I think it's just the voice in my head)_

_Anyway ! Let me a review if you feel like it. I'm curious about how you felt about this chapter. I'm starting to work again so don't expect next chapter before...quite...a long time? (sorry? *hide far away*)_

_Thank you for reading._

_Queenie_

_The slowest HashiMada writer ever._


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